The school festival finally arrived. The first-years seemed almost overwhelmed by the high school event’s free atmosphere; it was quite a change from the festivals in junior high, which still felt quite childish.
The festival was held over two days. On the first day, only students could visit the campus, which was hosting events like an opening ceremony, club presentations, and a band performance. The next day, the festival was open to the public, and people flocked to check out the various cafés and classroom attractions. Some schools used entry tickets to keep out visitors who might be up to no good, but not ours. Anyone could come and go as they pleased.
Class 1-C’s haunted house only had a few visitors at first. It was common knowledge that school-festival haunted houses weren’t great—a lot of students mockingly said as much when they first entered. Before long, however, you could hear their screams of terror echoing into the hallway. Students began to notice how haggard guests looked upon exiting, and before long, a line of people wanting to experience our haunted house began to form.
Darkness blanketed the haunted house classroom, thanks to the repaired blackout curtain and blinds we’d placed in other gaps. Visitors weren’t given any lights; they had to walk through relying only on the dim glow of indirect lighting as creepy background music played. To lower their guard, the haunted house used childish pranks at the beginning. We squirted visitors with water guns and walked them through suspended chunks of konjac jelly. Once they advanced farther inside, it was time for the products of the scenery group’s labor—our mechanized set pieces—to shine.
Yoshino and I took turns in the haunted house. We wore white yukata and, when someone got close, signaled the boys operating the set pieces. The unsuspecting visitor would believe nothing was there, so when a ghost suddenly appeared behind them and caught them off guard, they’d scream in terror. They’d scramble away, only to run straight into Yoshino’s masterpiece, the Japanese-style painting of a ghostly woman appearing before them in a flash of light. They’d be petrified for a moment, then realize it was only a picture. Their relief was short-lived, however, since the set piece immediately revolved to reveal a real ghost clad in a white yukata directly overhead.
The haunted house would have seemed less scary if groups bumped into each other along the way, so I was standing right by the exit, monitoring the number of people leaving. By the time guests reached me, they looked completely drained—they’d probably screamed too much internally. I saw the tension in their faces melt as they neared the exit, but when I greeted them with a final “Congratulations on surviving!” they almost always squealed in terror again.
“Eeeek!” Someone shrieked so close to me, I thought it might damage my hearing.
Two students were approaching the exit—a boy whose wails nearly shattered my eardrums and the girl he was clinging to. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness, so I immediately recognized them. It was Tono-senpai and Hasumi-senpai.
“Tono-senpai?” I said.
They must’ve recognized me too. Tono-senpai immediately tried to look as though he hadn’t been on the verge of fainting from fear just moments earlier. “Sheesh, was it really that scary, Ichika?” he asked casually.
“I think you were the one screaming your head off the whole time, Riku,” Hasumi-senpai replied, mercilessly sabotaging his attempt to salvage the situation.
I had a little time before the next group would emerge, so I followed them through the exit into the hallway’s dazzling light.
“Thanks for coming,” I said. “Chiaki bought a bunch of haunted house tickets, so I was hoping I might see you guys.”
“It was so scary!” Tono-senpai admitted. “I shouldn’t have assumed it’d be like all those other high-school haunted houses.”
Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. I wanted to go get Yoshino, but she was signaling the boys in the classroom.
“Our shifts will be over soon,” I told them. “Yoshino and I are planning to see your class’s café after that.”
“Your brother and I should both be working then,” Tono-senpai replied. “He should be getting ready right now. Hope you’re looking forward to seeing his moment of glory.”
Chiaki was scheduled for the afternoon shift, but getting dressed and having his makeup done would apparently take a while. Hasumi-senpai and Tono-senpai, meanwhile, wore simple white shirts and black pants. “You’re not cross-dressing yourself, Tono-senpai?”
“They did create an outfit for me, but I’m more comfortable dressed this way,” he replied.
“Aw. That’s too bad. I wanted to see you in drag.” He was a little tall, but his androgynous features would probably transform him into quite an attractive girl.
A smile I couldn’t quite read flashed across his face. Then he whistled softly at the raucous screams coming from within the haunted house. “Sounds like someone’s having a blast in there. Anyway, we’ll see you later. I’ll make sure you get a free drink.”
“Thanks.” I watched the pair walk off together, then headed back toward the exit to see what was going on.
Just outside the haunted house, some boys were smirking and laughing as they listened to screams from within. They were probably friends of the group currently moving through the haunted house. We only allowed up to three people inside at a time, so they and their pals had likely been split into two groups.
I pulled the door open and crept back through the exit. As the screams gradually moved closer, I could easily guess which part of the haunted house they were moving through. They were probably right by Yoshino’s painting.
“Gaaaaah!”
A scream that could’ve shattered glass rang out as a flurry of footsteps raced in my direction. There must’ve been a girl in the group. Judging by the sound of her footfalls, she was making her way toward me incredibly fast. My role monitoring the exit included making sure no guests tripped or fell over as they left, so I called out to ask if she was okay. However, she kept screaming as she pushed me out of the way and fled the classroom.
The impact of our collision sent me flying into some desks we were using as scaffolding. That part of the set almost collapsed, but our group leader, who was also lurking behind the scenes, noticed at the last second and kept them from tumbling over.
“You okay, Sakura?” he called.
I’d pulled part of the curtain down with me when I fell, and light from outside flooded in, illuminating the concern written all over his face.
I realized the girl who’d zoomed by me had been wearing a white yukata. “That was Yoshino just now…” I trailed off.
As I tried to figure out what was going on, the visitor group inside the haunted house screamed again, approaching the exit. This area wasn’t pitch black anymore, though, so their fear seemed to be abating quickly.
“Huh? Is that you, Captain? So, this’s where you hid.”
It was a group of boys. From the casual way they spoke to our group leader, I guessed they’d probably been members of his junior-high baseball team.
“We all decided to come see you,” one boy added, “Since you’re the only one of us who went to a different high school.”
“Hey, wasn’t that Somei back there?” another interjected.
At the mention of Yoshino’s name, our group leader’s face paled.
“It makes no sense for someone playing a ghost to scream and run off,” one of the boys said mockingly. “Why didn’t you tell us you were at the same high school as her?”
The boy’s jeering tone immediately clicked everything into place in my head. These had to be the boys who’d bullied Yoshino at her previous junior high. She’d been waiting in the classroom to give the signal whenever visitors walked by, so her eyes would’ve been accustomed to the dark. She’d probably gotten a clear view of the group, recognized the faces of the boys who’d tortured her so horribly, and started screaming.
“Yoshino!” I yelled after her, starting to chase her along the crowded hallway. I was still dressed as a ghost, and I could feel the surprised looks I got as I dashed past everyone.
Yoshino, however, had already disappeared from sight. In her agitated state, she’d likely just run in a straight line. Following her presumed path, I ended up in the second-year area. It was a little scary because I could feel the upperclassmen’s suspicious gazes burning into me. Another scream sent me dashing toward Class 2-A, where the hallway came to a dead end.
I heard a familiar voice beyond the screams. “Yoshino, what’s wrong? It’s me, Chiaki.”
Chiaki looked about halfway ready for his café shift. He wore a deep-red dress, but his makeup still wasn’t finished. He’d stopped Yoshino’s frenzied escape and grabbed both her flailing hands, but Chiaki restricting her movements seemed to panic Yoshino even more.
A crowd started to form in the hallway. As students hemmed and hawed about whether to call a teacher, I caught sight of a tall figure making his way through the spectators.
Yoshino summoned all her remaining strength to break free from Chiaki’s grasp. She still seemed to be in a state of utter confusion, waving her arms wildly and leaving scratch marks on her face. Then someone called her name and grabbed her hands to keep her from injuring herself. It was Tono-senpai, with Hasumi-senpai not far behind him. They must’ve recognized me darting frantically past them in my yukata and realized something was wrong.
“Yoshino!” I yelped her name as I threw my arms around my friend. My heart felt like it was going to explode in my chest from running full tilt, but that sensation paled in comparison to the pain I felt hearing her anguished moans.
“It’s going to be okay, Yoshino. It’s going to be okay.” I rubbed her back, trying my best to comfort her, but she was breathing erratically, and she fainted in my arms.