Vol 1 – Chapter 1: The Gathering of Ghost Stories

"That Kagehara Tetsuya, who does he think he is? We’re out here trying to enjoy the trip, and he shows up late like he owns the place. Arrogant jerk."

"Senpai has already gone to get him. He should be here soon."

"Honestly, why did the club even let someone like him join? He’s practically a suspect, for crying out loud!"

"Isn’t that just a rumor? That Kagehara-san killed his middle school classmate? I heard the real culprit was that... 'Makeup Hunter' serial killer."

"Why bring up something like that? The Makeup Hunter... that’s not something I want to think about. Targeting high school girls, killing them, peeling off their faces, and painting them with heavy makeup... It’s sick. The police need to catch that monster before he strikes again!"

"The media made it all about makeup, but the real motive’s still unclear. Still, he’s probably the one who killed Tanaka Erika, right?"

 "You’re new here, so you wouldn’t know. There’s another theory—one that makes a lot more sense."

"What theory?" 

"If the killer of Tanaka Erika was Kagehara Tetsuya, then everything would make perfect sense!"

"Think about it. If he copied the Makeup Hunter’s methods, no one would suspect him. It’s the perfect cover."

"A copycat? But wouldn’t that be incredibly hard to pull off?"

"Not for him. He was Tanaka Erika’s classmate, and they didn’t get along. His mom was a professional makeup artist—she even wanted him to follow in her footsteps. And his dad? A surgeon. Rumor has it, he taught Kagehara how to perform surgeries on stray cats when he was just a kid."

"Wow, how do you know all this?"

"Nah you’re the only one who doesn’t know anything! It was all over the news a year ago. A journalist got the info from an officer working on Tanaka Erika’s case. It’s legit. Even now, there are detectives who still think Kagehara’s guilty."

"But... that’s not proof, is it? There’s no direct evidence."

"What about the other clues? The Makeup Hunter’s victims were all high school girls, but Tanaka Erika was in middle school. Doesn’t that seem off to you?"

"What’s even stranger is that his father jumped to his death right after Kagehara came under suspicion. Why would he kill himself if Kagehara was innocent? Guilt, maybe. Couldn’t live with the fact that his son was a murderer."

"And his mother?" 

"Died before any of this happened, no connection to the case."

"I heard something else too. Kagehara-san was sent to a juvenile detention center once."

"That’s a place specifically for detaining and rehabilitating juvenile delinquents, right?"

"Exactly. Kagehara was sent there for animal abuse. They found videos at his house. You know what they say—most killers start with animals."

"But... the animals he abused were all Pit Bulls, right? They’re a breed specifically bred for dogfighting. That’s strange. Usually, it’s smaller, weaker animals."

"Yeah, Kagehara’s not like most people. He’s dangerous. Maybe even more dangerous than the Makeup Hunter."

"You’d never guess it just by looking at him."

"That’s what makes him even scarier." 

"Let’s stop talking about him. If he hears us, we’re done for."

......

The soft rustle of fabric filled the dimly lit room as Kagehara Tetsuya stirred from his slumber. The voice that woke him was familiar, though muffled by the wooden mask she wore—a kitsune, its sharp features carved with an almost lifelike precision. The girl standing before him was dressed in a yukata, the pale fabric catching the faint glow of the lantern light. He couldn’t see her face, but he knew who she was.

"Kagehara-kun? Kagehara-kun?" 

"Ah... is that you, Senpai?" he replied, his voice soft and groggy, as though he had just been roused from a deep sleep. He sat up slowly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "I must’ve fallen asleep."

Senpai urged, holding out a kitsune mask identical to her own. "Put this on. The ghost story gathering has already started, and everyone’s waiting for you."

"Am I late?" Kagehara asked, his tone tinged with genuine-sounding regret. He accepted the mask and stood, bowing slightly. "I’m truly sorry for the trouble."

He knew the act well—the slight dip of his head, the faint crease of his brow, the careful modulation of his voice to convey just the right amount of guilt. It was a performance he had perfected over the years, one that never failed to disarm those around him. After all, if he didn’t feign remorse now, it would seem... unnatural.

And Kagehara Tetsuya had long since learned the importance of appearing natural.

The memory surfaced unbidden, as it often did—a fragment from his childhood, sharp and vivid. He had been in elementary school then. His teacher had asked him to deliver homework to an absent classmate, but instead, he had deliberately given the wrong assignment. The next day, his classmate had been scolded in front of the entire class, tears streaming down their face.

Kagehara had found it... amusing.

When his mother found out, she had made him apologize. He remembered the way she had looked at him, her eyes searching his face for something he couldn’t quite understand. "Why did you do it?" she had asked, her voice tight with disappointment.

"Because I’d never seen my desk mate cry before," he had replied, his tone matter-of-fact. "I wanted to see what it looked like."

That had been the first time someone had called him strange. Even after he apologized, his mother had shaken her head, "Your apology isn’t sincere," she had said. 

That incident had taught him three invaluable lessons.

First, never let others think you’re strange—not even your mother.

Second, when doing certain things, never get caught.

And third, learn to act. Learn to apologize, to show guilt, to feign remorse.

......

The room was dimly lit, the absence of a mirror forcing Kagehara Tetsuya to adjust the kitsune mask by touch. His movements were precise, almost mechanical, as he secured it over his face. "I’m sorry for the trouble, Senpai." 

Senpai glanced at him, her eyes scanning his masked figure to ensure everything was in order. Satisfied, she nodded. "Alright, let’s go."

They stepped out of the room and into the narrow hallway of the hot spring inn, the wooden floor creaking softly under their footsteps. The faint scent of sulfur from the springs lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of aged wood. As they approached the central staircase, Kagehara broke the silence, his voice calm but probing. "It might be a bit late to ask now, but... is it really okay for me to join the activity?"

Senpai paused, turning to look at him. "Huh? What do you mean, Kagehara-kun?"

"Actually, everyone hates me, right?" he said, "If I’m there, it’ll definitely ruin the mood."

“Oh, that. I don’t care at all about the rumors surrounding you, Kagehara-kun. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have invited you to join the club in the first place. And besides, no one in the club hates you!"

"Is that so?" 

At this, Senpai suddenly turned to face him fully, her smooth black hair swaying as she blocked the faint light from the hallway lantern. "Maybe, in a way, I’m the same kind of person as you, Kagehara-kun."

Kagehara’s mind bristled at the statement, though his expression remained hidden behind the mask. What an arrogant thought. Don’t act like you understand me. Outwardly, he feigned a look of shame, his voice tinged with humility. "Please don’t say that, Senpai. You’re an exceptional person, and everyone respects you."

Senpai seemed to brighten at the compliment, her tone lightening. "Speaking of which, I was really surprised when you accepted my invitation and joined the club!"

"Because studying folklore is fascinating," Kagehara replied smoothly, his words carefully measured. "And it was you who personally invited me. In any case, I’m very grateful for your kindness, Senpai." His tone was polite, almost rehearsed, betraying nothing of the thoughts churning beneath the surface.

"Then, enjoy the ghost story gathering," Senpai said, her voice cheerful now. "I’m sure you’ll like it, Kagehara-kun!"

"I’m looking forward to it." 

......

Kagehara Tetsuya stepped into the room at the end of the hallway, the faint creak of the sliding door drawing the attention of everyone inside. The low hum of conversation ceased abruptly, and several pairs of eyes turned toward him, their gazes sharp and fleeting, as if afraid to linger too long.

"Sorry, I’m late," he said. The apology was practiced, polished to perfection, betraying no hint of insincerity. He had long since mastered the art of blending in, of saying just enough to deflect suspicion without drawing undue attention.

"Yo yo, we’re here!" Senpai’s cheerful voice broke the tension, her presence like a shield against the unease that had settled over the room. The others quickly averted their eyes, their attention shifting away from Kagehara as though afraid of being marked by his memory.

"Seriously, Senpai, you’re so slow!" 

"Yeah, we’ve been waiting forever." 

"Senpai, sit over here with me!" 

The flurry of voices quickly dissolved the strange atmosphere, the room filling with a sense of normalcy once more. Six people sat around the low table, their kitsune masks casting eerie shadows in the dim light. Kagehara, unsurprisingly, wasn’t invited to join any particular group and took the last remaining seat without comment.

The lights were turned off, and a single candle was lit in the center of the table. Its flickering flame cast a faint, uneven glow over the masks, their carved features twisting and shifting in the shadows. The room grew quiet, the air thick with anticipation.

"It feels... kind of scary now," one of the them murmured, the voice barely above a whisper. "Did Senpai prepare all this a bit too seriously?"

"Who knows?" another replied, the tone half-joking, half-nervous. "Maybe we’ll actually summon something. There’s that urban legend, right? About how telling ghost stories can really attract spirits or something..."

"Ghosts don’t exist, do they?" a voice interjected, though it lacked conviction. "It’s all just people scaring themselves… So, who should start?"

"How about Senpai?" someone suggested.

"Sure, Yomikawa-senpai’s stories are always interesting!"

"Then let’s have Tsuko-senpai start!"

Kagehara’s gaze shifted to Yomikawa Tsuko, the girl who had escorted him here. He studied her masked figure, recalling her words in the hallway. Had there been some hidden meaning behind her statement, or was it merely an attempt to connect with him? He couldn’t be sure.

"Alright, I’ll start then," Yomikawa said, "Today, I want to tell the legend of Lord Mask-Taker."