Hanako of the Toilet
The third stall. If you knock, there is always a reply. "Yes?" comes a voice, innocent and childlike.
But you must not peek inside. Beyond the door is someone who, many years ago, became able only to be called "Hanako," their name long forgotten. When they show themselves, it is always only a pair of white socks peering from the gap beneath the door. Once you answer, the stall doors all swing open at once, and the sound of dry laughter echoes through the space as it chases after you.
Mozart of the Music Room
Night after night, the sound of a piano leaks from the music room where no one should be. The melody is beautiful, almost maddeningly precise.
If you peek inside, the portrait that should be in its frame is gone. Sitting at the piano is "him," stepped out of the painting. Without ever stopping his performance, only his pale fingertips continue to dance across the keys. The moment he lifts his head and your eyes meet—you can no longer escape the melody.
Demon of the Mirror
An old mirror covering an entire inner wall of the gymnasium.
The mirror itself says nothing. It simply reflects things that should not be reflected. Even if you turn around, no one is there. But inside the mirror, something is definitely standing. It stares at you, and little by little, it closes the distance. That "something," visible only through the mirror, might step outside the moment you look away.
The Anatomical Model in the Science Room
A yellowed skeletal specimen standing in the back of the science preparation room. During class, no one pays it any mind; it is just teaching material.
But around the time the date changes, the specimen stirs with a clatter. Creaking at the joints, it walks slowly but surely down the hallway. At first, its footsteps can be heard from far away. Even if you turn around, nothing is there. But each time you round a corner, the distance has definitely shrunk. If you cannot escape, you will feel the touch of bony fingers on your shoulder.
The Book You Must Not Read
In the back of the library, on a shelf from which no one has ever borrowed, sits a single book with no spine.
It has no title. When you open the cover, the pages should be blank. But if you look closely, faint letters slowly begin to appear. They read like someone's diary, and also like someone's grudge against another. The further you read, the more the pages turn on their own, and you are not allowed to stop midway.
When you finally reach the last page, what is written there is—the name of "you," the one reading this book right now.
Even if you close the book, it is already too late. When you turn around, the sound of paper rustling approaches from the shadows of the bookshelves, as if urging you to continue.
In one corner of the shoe lockers at the entrance, a single indoor shoe with no owner sits alone. It has no name written on it, and it alone looks strangely new.
When you approach to get a closer look, you notice a faint red stain spreading around the shoe. It looks like blood, and also like mere dirt. The moment you take your eyes off it, the other shoe may be lying at your feet—as if someone is wearing it right now. When you turn around, the sound of bare footsteps comes from right behind you.
A black shadow standing in a classroom where no one should be.
From a distance, you cannot tell who it is... but it is a shadow you certainly know.
It speaks to you with unsettling familiarity.
Sometimes in the form of a teacher, sometimes in the form of a close friend. But you must not let your guard down. Because in the end, it will steal your face. It will take your place and stand in the classroom in your stead—to lull its next prey into complacency.
you's best friend and the one who proposed the test of courage.
A reckless jokester who is afraid of nothing.
He entered the school building ahead of you, but they got separated.
Is he safe...?
