Source
https://kakuyomu.jp/works/16817139558323866579/episodes/16817330669161396408
“I heard this from a friend.”
This happened when I was in junior high school.
One of my friend’s classmates died in an accident.
During summer vacation, he was involved in a drunk driving accident.
Immediately after the funeral, his parents moved to another prefecture.
I guess it was too much for him to bear.
When I went to class at the start of the new school year, there was a dog there.
It was a cute Maltese with white fur.
“Good morning.”
Everyone who entered the classroom naturally greeted the dog.
“Good morning, xx.”
After saying that, I tilted my head, not realizing what I had just said.
Lighthearted greetings of “good morning” were exchanged one after another.
The Maltese wagged its tail happily and responded to each voice.
“Good morning” in xx’s voice.
Someone mentioned, “Come to think of it…”
At the time of the accident, he was walking his beloved dog.
For a while after that, the Maltese stayed in the classroom as if it were natural.
Neither the students nor the teachers could bring themselves to say anything, even though they all knew something was off.
They feared that speaking up might break something.
In the end, the dog stopped appearing altogether.
“—–Was it scary?”
“….It’s not so much scary as it is sad and helpless.”
Also, it’s a story about a dog dying.
That’s my impression of it.
The person and the dog who were both involved in the accident and died are now together.
Maybe the dog came to say goodbye to its friend.
Did it visit its parents? Or maybe it didn’t go because it would have been too shocking for them.
But thinking about this fictional xx-kun doesn’t really mean anything.
Stories where good people are struck by unjust misfortune are just uncomfortable to listen to.
Personally, I prefer stories where someone enters a forbidden place and is cursed as karma, because those are easier to listen to.
When I said something like that, the guy next to me chewed on some gum and muttered,
“Then let’s talk about a house you shouldn’t live in.”
“……A house you shouldn’t live in, huh?”
As someone who is currently living in an apartment that seems like you shouldn’t live in, I wonder what stance I should take when listening to this story.
I’m a little confused.
“It’s a story about a house somewhere in Saitama.”
Oh no, it’s started.
I thought he would tell me the story tomorrow, but my friend handed me the empty gummy candy bag and continued.
By the way, this means, “Please throw this away.” Well, I can’t go out to take out the trash.
“The mansion had a magnificent gate, but you weren’t allowed to enter through it, so you had to go in and out through a hole in the fence.”
Of course, from the outside, it looked ridiculous, so it was jokingly called the ‘hole mansion.’
The mansion itself was magnificent, so it probably looked even more amusing.
People around them said, “If you’re not going to use the gate, just tear it down.”
But the owner stubbornly refused and even had the old gate rebuilt to keep it closed.
Since he was already old, his relatives just let him do as he pleased.
He was a man who hated people, and since he was the only one living there, the only ones inconvenienced were the maids.
A few years later, the owner of the mansion passed away.
When the relatives gathered for the funeral, they apparently opened the gate.
Indeed, with so many people gathered, it would have been a hassle for everyone to go through the hole.
No one present objected strongly.
Most of the relatives went through the gate to leave, while a few who were close to the owner went through the hole.
Shortly thereafter, the relatives who had gone through the gate began to suffer misfortunes one after another.
Accidents, suicides, and disappearances. By the time five years had passed, it seems they had all passed away.
The mansion is said to still exist somewhere in Saitama.
“…Was it scary?”
“Well, it was scary. …But isn’t it more like ‘a gate you shouldn’t pass through’ rather than ‘a house you shouldn’t live in’?”
“No, it’s a house you shouldn’t live in.”
Since nothing happened at the mansion itself, isn’t the gate the problem?
I asked that, but my neighbor denied it casually.
“You shouldn’t build a house in such a place.”
She said that and, unusually, returned to her room without even saying goodbye.
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