Episode 8 – [Photograph]
Source
https://kakuyomu.jp/works/16817139558323866579/episodes/16817330669161451991
“I heard this from a friend.”
This happened when we were in high school.
At the time, there was a guy in our group whose hobby was “vandalizing photos on the street.”
For example, he would scribble on posters stuck to bulletin boards without glass doors, or on missing pet posters stuck to utility poles, or randomly black out contact information.
It wasn’t exactly a tasteful pastime.
But he was the kind of person who would do anything he found amusing, so trying to stop him was pointless.
We either waited for him to get bored and move on to something else, or pretended not to be involved to avoid getting into trouble ourselves. That was the extent of our response.
No one was willing to get serious and try to stop him. Getting serious was just too lame.
However, my friend did get angry once when he vandalized a missing person poster.
Since he didn’t stop, my friend apparently distanced himself from him.
I intentionally chose a high school far away, so no one knew about my friend’s sister.
Since no one knew, there was no point in taking it seriously. Even if they had known, it might have turned into a teasing atmosphere.
In any case, my friend distanced himself from his former friends and started hanging out with a different group.
He thought it was better to distance himself before he ended up hating his former friends, rather than continuing to feel bad about it.
That friend with poor taste—let’s call him F—apparently continued his pranks without learning his lesson.
Maybe he got angry because he was treated coldly.
It’s a silly story for a high school student, but he was the kind of person who did such stupid things.
Then, one day, some time later.
F came over to my friend’s seat in a very angry mood. Without even saying hello, he pushed him in the shoulder.
My friend asked him what he was doing, but F just yelled, “It’s your fault” and didn’t try to explain himself.
It’s your fault.
You’re doing underhanded harassment.
You’re the worst.
F was ranting and raving like that.
My friend couldn’t understand what he was saying at all. It was so incomprehensible that his anger gradually subsided.
Then, as my friend stood there dumbfounded, not understanding anything, F angrily slammed a clear file folder onto the desk.
The swollen clear file burst open, scattering countless photos.
All of them seemed to be F’s photos.
What was unclear was that the faces of the people in the photos had all been carefully blacked out.
It wasn’t done with a permanent marker. It was more sticky, like traces of black mud smeared on them.
The dozens of photos with blackened faces were a rather bizarre sight.
“No”
He muttered, looking down at the photos in confusion.
“It wasn’t me.”
It was a perfectly reasonable defense.
That made sense. Among the scattered photos, there were some that clearly looked like F at around three years old.
There was no reason to carry around photos that would normally be in a family album.
Since they hadn’t been in contact since that incident, there was no way a friend would have gone to F’s house.
How could a complete stranger have tampered with photos that were stored away at home?
He muttered in confusion, but F showed no sign of listening.
“There’s no way that’s true, you know that. Let’s go back.”
“Stop it, you’re being ridiculous.”
“Just apologize to your family properly. It has nothing to do with xx.”
My friends all chimed in, trying to calm F down.
In the end, F, who had apparently exhausted himself from all the commotion, left the classroom without touching the photo.
According to what I heard, F’s photo had been in that state for about a week, and his mother had scolded him severely after seeing the album.
Given the circumstances, it was assumed that there was no one else but F who could have done it.
He was scolded for acting like a child even though he was a high school student, had his allowance reduced, and was lectured by his father with a stern expression after hearing the story.
It can be said that this was a perfectly reasonable response.
Memory photos are precious. Depending on the management situation, there is a risk that the original photos may never be recovered.
My friend felt sorry for him, but being treated as the culprit was honestly unpleasant.
After that, strange rumors began to circulate, but they were so absurd that no one believed them.
Of course. It’s impossible to break into someone’s house and carefully black out all of F’s photos in an album.
My friend suspect that F’s pranks escalated to the point where he ended up defacing something he shouldn’t have touched.
F was ranting incoherently, and the atmosphere was far from conducive to hearing his side of the story, and I didn’t even want to hear it anyway.
In any case, at that point, the friendship that had blossomed between F and his friend was irreparably broken.
There are still times when he reminisces about how F had his good points.
However, every time he tries to recall the memory, there is something that bothers him.
He can’t remember F’s face at all.
Maybe it’s because they stopped hanging out and time has passed, so he has forgotten.
That seems more natural. But I’m sure the truth is different.
Even in the yearbook, F’s face was blacked out.
At first, there were inquiries from the school, but soon they stopped coming.
My friend never spoke to F again, but according to a mutual friend, even now, his face is sometimes blacked out in printed photos.
“—-Was it scary?”
“Well, yeah. There are some things you just shouldn’t touch, right?”
I’m listening to ghost stories right next to someone like that. I’ll avoid bringing up that old topic.
At least it’s good that the impact was limited to printed photos. No, it’s not really over. From what I’ve heard, digital images seem to be okay. He’s still alive.
In the first place, I played a prank on something that I shouldn’t have touched lightly, and I’m lucky that it ended up being only that.
As I nodded to myself thinking that, something was thrust into my field of vision.
It was a postcard-sized piece of paper with a slight curve. Incidentally, it was facing away from me, so I couldn’t see the “photo” yet.
“Here you go.”
“Do I have to take it?”
“Are you scared?”
A hoarse laugh echoed, and I felt a pang of regret, so I snatched it away—or rather, I picked it up gently with my fingertips.
Come on. It’s unfair to bring out props like that.
That’s the worst kind of cheating. Of course I’d be scared if a photo came out.
“Want to see?”
Kukuku, kishikishi. A cheerful laugh echoes.
There’s no need to see it. That’s obvious.
But out of sheer stubbornness, I flipped it open.
The photo was dark.
In a dimly lit tatami room, a pale pair of feet stood.
The upper half was completely black, probably due to a development error, so it was hard to see. Therefore, it wasn’t very scary.
“Isn’t this F-kun’s photo?”
I blurted out without thinking.
That’s right. F-kun is a fictional character, so there’s no way a photo of a fictional character would appear.
…No, that’s not right. Since the face is blurred out, it doesn’t matter who it is.
It’s possible to create a fake photo with a blurred-out face and pass it off as F-kun.
I think that would be scarier, but for some reason, the photo in my hands had nothing to do with the story.
“…What is this photo of?”
“Feet.”
“No, I know it’s feet.”
That’s obvious just by looking at it. It’s clearly feet, even to anyone who sees it.
As far as I can tell, they’re a boy’s feet. The skin around the knees is visible, so he must be wearing shorts or something.
A photo of a boy standing in a tatami room. There’s no further information.
“It’s a foot.”
It seemed like hse wasn’t going to say anything else.
I just nodded and said, “Yeah, sure” and then it was time to say good night.
“Good night, Takahiro.”
“Yeah, good night.”
I returned to my room with the photo in my hand. Just as I reached for the trash can, I stopped.
This was definitely not the kind of photo I wanted to keep. But it was a photo that had meaning if I kept it.
For example, if she suddenly asked, “Where’s the photo I gave you before?” I’d be in trouble if I threw it away.
Maybe I’d be okay, but I didn’t want to take that risk.
Holding the photo in my hand, I wandered around the room before finally putting it in an unused shelf in the kitchen.
I didn’t want to put it somewhere where it would be easily noticed.
Apparently, there’s no need to be afraid of the photo itself.
Even famous ghost storytellers say that there are no photos that will curse you just by owning them. Really.
Even pests look cute in photos.
So, what you should be afraid of is the “phenomenon” captured in the photo.
The photo is just a photo, nothing more.
That night, I slept while trembling more than usual from the creaking of the house.
◇ ◆ ◇
A few days passed.
On Christmas morning, I safely received a gift from my neighbor.
I even took sleeping pills to sleep, so I think I was a good boy.
When I woke up, I slowly went out to the balcony, took the socks that were carelessly hung on the clothesline pole, and brought them inside. They were quite heavy.
It was my first-ever gift. Maybe because I was just waking up, I felt about 80% scared and 20% excited.
If I didn’t take it with this dazed feeling, I felt like I’d never be able to take it out.
So, I tried not to think about it too much and rummaged through the socks.
To cut to the chase,
it was mochi.
Let me say it again.
It was mochi.
I received a kagami mochi. It was probably fresh mochi.
I’m not sure if I’m seeing it correctly since I’m not used to it, but if my eyes are right, it was mochi.
It was neatly wrapped in some nice-looking paper.
“……………….”
I never expected to receive food.
I was told not to give it away, but what about receiving it? What should I do?
In the crisp winter sunlight, I held the large mochi and stood there confused for a while.
I thought about it for about ten minutes, but I had no idea what to do.
So, I consulted with Kandou san, feeling a bit flustered.
It was just the right timing, as we were about to meet for the last time before the end of the year.
I brought the mochi with me, thinking it would be faster to show him the real thing, and Kandou san examined it for a while, looking confused, and muttered, “It’s mochi…”
For now, he told me, “You can’t touch it with your bare hands because mold can grow easily.”
Disinfecting it with alcohol is also a good idea. Well, in this case, maybe sake would be better.
Leave it in a well-ventilated place and eat it on the 11th after the new year—but of course, this raises a question.
Is it okay to eat this? That’s the problem.
Kagami mochi is a mochi that is used to welcome the gods and then eaten after they have been sent off, in order to pray for good health.
I’ve never really experienced a proper New Year’s celebration, so I don’t really get it, but anyway, it’s a festive event.
Is it okay to perform such a ceremony with mochi received from the mysterious, suspicious neighbor?
I couldn’t make up my mind, so I contacted the owner’s brother as usual.
“If you’re going to contact him this often, you might as well just talk to him directly.”
Kandou san muttered in a somewhat exasperated tone as he answered the phone, then turned away from the receiver to avoid hearing his older brother’s loud laughter.
He was laughing. His older brother found it amusing that I had become so friendly with my neighbor.
With a frown on his face, Kandou san exchanged words with his older brother and muttered with a sigh.
“For now, it seems to be okay to leave it as it is. The decoration is fine as it is.”
“Is that so? Well, that’s good.”
I wasn’t sure if it was good or not. Because of that, I ended up with a strange expression on my face.
“I’m not sure if it’s okay to eat it…but she said she’ll be back after the New Year, so maybe she can take a look at it then.”
“Eh, oh, yes. Then, wait until then.”
I couldn’t help but gasp at his unexpected words.
Kandou san seemed to sense something from my shrinking posture, and smiled a little awkwardly before saying,
“Don’t worry, he’s not a bad person…well, he’s not a good person, but he’s not bad either.”
Was that really something to be reassured about?
I had my doubts, but I nodded with a smile for now.
No matter what kind of person he is, he can’t be worse than that thing. Besides, he’s Kandou san’s older brother.
By the way, I ended up receiving a key case from Kandou san.
I should have prepared a gift for his daughter as well.
I thought I’d prepare something next year, and then I couldn’t help but laugh a little.
Thinking about next year.
It was a strange feeling.
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