Best Seller
Genres: Supernatural/Friendship
Summary: It's a game to tell ghost stories, to make each one more terrifying than the last. From butterfly women and rokurokubi to bells and shapeshifters, a ghost story anthology. / Crushshipping Ryuuji x Shizuka x Honda
A/N: Written for Round One of the YGO Fanfiction Contest, Season 9—the pairing is Crushshipping (Ryuuji x Shizuka x Honda). The story revolves around a game of Hyakumonogatari Kaidankai, an parlor game popular in the Edo era where participants take turns telling ghost stories. Warnings for some mild horror. I hope you enjoy.
Best Seller
Kiyomori was welcomed by the court of the underworld. They gathered together on chairs of polished bones, blackened by soot and smoke. She thought she saw a few disconnected jawbones click together and was frightened, but she approached them anyway. A scribe stood behind the court, recording all of their proceedings on a scroll so long that it stretched out before him to roll down the stairs to the edge of the doorway.
"You are lucky, Kiyomori," the court's Queen said. "Although you died young, while living you were the wife of an Emperor. We would be honored for you to join the court as one of my ladies."
"I am honored." Kiyomori bowed, and when the scribe handed her a slip of paper with her intended assignment written on it she clutched it tightly in both hands. The scribe told her to present it to the elector in the next room, who would procure lodgings for her.
"Who is next?" The Queen called, raising a hand with long, red-lacquered fingernails to wave the next person forward.
The housing line was long, and Kiyomori waited for her turn silently. As they shuffled forward, the woman behind her tapped her on the shoulder.
"Hello," she greeted Kiyomori. "May I introduce myself? I am Masako. Like you, I died young. They told me I will serve as the housekeeper to the Tenmu family. I suppose I shouldn't count myself unlucky, although I would rather be…one of the Anunnaki, for instance," she said, naming the court of the underworld. I would be fair with how I prescribed the fates of others."
"I have been chosen to serve as one of their number," Kiyomori told her, and Masako's eyes lit up in curiosity.
"Oh, let me see!" She held out her hand, and Kiyomori, not wanting to be impolite, held out her slip of paper.
"The light here is so poor!" She remarked. "It is so difficult to read. Does it really say that?" She turned towards a lamp and held the paper closer to her eyes. "I suppose it does! You really are a lucky woman, Kiyomori. Fate was kind to you."
"My paper, please," she asked, as she was next in line. "Of course," Masako said, and handed the slip of paper back.
When she met the elector, she gave him the paper and waited to hear his pronouncement.
"Ah, you are Masako, yes? Meant to serve the Tenmu household. Yes, we have a place for you here, in one of the lower districts…"
Kiyomori gasped as she realized the paper in the elector's hands was not hers at all, but had been switched by Masako. The woman waited smugly, with Kiyomori's own paper clutched in her hands.
"She is a thief! Have someone arrest her for stealing from me!" she shouted.
The elector looked back at her and frowned. "Masako, you yourself are a thief, and died as a result of your actions. Why should I believe you?"
Gaping, she was led away, her entire future stripped away just like that. Her entire identity stolen from her, with the knowledge that she will have to live in this position of servitude and deceit for all of eternity…
Ryuuji finishes reading, and holds a thumb against the corner of the page to mark his place. Beside him, Jonouchi tries to conceal a shiver, and mutters something about the air conditioning being up too high.
The silence is interrupted by the sound of rustling paper, and Jonouchi jumps again, but it is only his sister rifling through the bag of snacks in the center of their makeshift circle.
"Ghost stories make you hungry?" Ryuuji asked with a smile, handing the book off clockwise, to Jonouchi. He stands, taking the opportunity to stretch his arms over his head. Every muscle in his body feels tight and stiff, and he can only blame his position slouched on the floor for so much of it. The rest, he knows, is from the stories.
Shizuka answers with a shy smile. "I'm certainly not scared of them."
"You'd be the only one!" Yugi says. The dim candlelight from the adjoining room is enough to throw shadows over each of their faces, and Yugi's casts pointed shadows on the wall when he moves to lean his arms on his knees.
Shizuka opens a package of cookies and starts to eat, offering some to the others. On her right, Honda takes one but doesn't eat it, turning it around in his hands.
"Having fun yet?" she asks.
"This is the only game I've ever played where the point is that it isn't fun," he says.
"That was only the twentieth story." Ryuuji opens the door to the other room wider, letting in more light. "We're halfway there."
He enters, moving to the table in the center of the room. Its surface is littered with candles of all shapes and sizes, most of them thick white pillar candles that Jonouchi bought cheaply down at the convenience store around the block. They'd only had forty candles in stock, so they had to make do; the original game calls for one hundred candles, with one hundred stories to match. He is secretly glad of it—he doesn't think any of them would last that long. It isn't that their creativity would run out, he thinks—if it comes to it he is confident he can tell one hundred stories on his own, although their quality would likely suffer towards the end—but their wits will return and one of them will call it quits before the candles run out. He will never be the first to break, but he has no problem being the last.
The candles surround a circular mirror, one that Shizuka had brought, and its pink-painted edges cast an almost eerie, blood-red shade to the light reflected around the room. Considering the game at hand, she chose well.
He picks a candle near the end of its life, dripping wax. Placing his hand around it so as not to disturb the others, he breathes out, and extinguishes the light in a puff of air. A thin trail of smoke rises from it, and he returns to the main room.
"Nineteen more stories to go," he says. "It's your turn, Jonouchi."
"I have an idea," Yugi interrupts, leaning forward. "It will be more fun if we make up our own stories instead of just reading them from the kaidan book, right? Besides, we'll run out of stories soon anyway, when I found the book it had some pretty bad water damage, half the stories are illegible. Why don't we try it ourselves?"
"That sounds scarier." Jonouchi's mutter accompanies a scowl as he sets the book down, and Shizuka scoots forward to grab another package of snacks.
"It's kind of the point," she says. "Go on. Just make something up. Tell a story about a Duel Monster!"
"I can do that." Jonouchi pulls the sleeves up on his jacket so no one can see the goose-bumps forming on his arms. Of course he has to pick the spot underneath an air-conditioning vent.
He clears his throat.
There was a man who was cursed as a small boy. His entire body was always aflame, although his own flesh never burned and he was never in pain from it. As it was a curse, it made his life difficult…he was isolated from the others in his village out of fear, and lived alone in a valley beneath the stars. The ground where he walked was nothing but charred dirt; no grass would grow where he stepped.
Soon, the military heard of the flaming man, and sent for him to join the army. Special armor was commissioned for him of a tough metal that would not warp from the flames surrounding his body, and he was given a sword to fight with. He stood in the front lines at every battle, and attained a great reputation for his bravery.
It was at this time when the army was camped near a small town that he fell in love. The flaming swordsman, living apart from the others, came to watch a woman as she went to the well every day. The rocks were not harmed from his fire, and he often boiled water for her, but never learned her name. Like the other women in that town, she wore a cape of feathers from the birds they kept as pets, so that is how he called her in his mind. Thinking about her made him forget his own troubles, so he kept her in his thoughts as often as he could.
He considered that perhaps his reputation as the fiercest warrior in the army and the salary he earned from it in addition to his love was enough to appeal to her, and so he asked the lady for her hand the next morning when he met her by the well. She agreed, and told him to join her at her house that evening so he could meet her family and make arrangements for their wedding.
The swordsman arrived at her house and was let inside. They shared dinner together, but inside the smoke rising from the swordsman's body had nowhere to go and choked the air. His steps charred the smooth wooden floor, and in a matter of minutes the building was on fire. He struggled to find his bride, but could not see her through the smoke and could not hear her through the squawking of the birds trapped inside their cages.
He could not find her even after the entire house had been reduced to nothing but ash. It was then he realized that she was dead, and he remembered once again that he had been cursed.
And, um, next he…wow, this is depressing—
"Katsuya!" Shizuka smacks him on the arm. "You were doing so well! It was such a good story!"
"Depressing," Jonouchi echoes, stifling a yawn with his sleeve. "I'm too tired for this."
"Go blow out a candle." Ryuuji reminds him almost automatically, and takes the opportunity when Jonouchi stands up and moves to the other room to switch places, scooting over to sit beside Shizuka.
"It's your turn, next," he says. "Do you know what story you'll tell?"
She nods, tucking a loose strand of hair behind one ear. The light gets dimmer as one more candle loses its light, and Jonouchi shuffles back in. He slumps down in the open space, yawning again.
"I heard that if you finish the game, and blow out all the candles, the spirits you've mentioned will be summoned," Yugi says, glancing around the room. "What do you all think?"
"Don't wanna think about it," Jonouchi mutters. "I'd be more willing to believe it if we were telling stories about happy people and fortune and—"
"But that's not the point." Shizuka is quick to reply, and beside her Honda shrugs noncommittally. "It only works because the stories are scary…the stories have to each be more terrifying than the next, and the people playing the game have to work together in that way to win. If we're brave enough to finish the game, then we won't be afraid of the spirits we summon. Right?"
"Sure, Shizuka," Yugi answers. "It's just a game. We're good at those."
"And it's my turn," Shizuka says, and leans forward, her fingers tightening around the snack wrappers in both hands. The crinkling of plastic is loud, almost jarring, and she begins her tale.
Hideo had always had weird dreams, as long as he could remember. They were not nightmares—in fact, they seemed so lifelike and real that he often thought of them as such until he woke up. For years, he had these dreams, all the same. He was in the bedroom he shared with his wife, but he was perched high up on the wall, looking down, or he would be standing outside, but the branches of the trees would drop down so the leaves were in his way and would scratch at his neck and face. It was so lifelike that he felt the aftereffects of the scratches the next day and wished for a mirror to observe himself in, but there were none in his house because his wife was blind, and had no need of them.
Hideo's wife was very beautiful, however, and he doted on her and would give her anything she asked. She often remarked that she had no need of her eyes, because her hands saw for her. She claimed that she fell in love with him after she traced the contours of his face with her fingertips, and focused on his smile and his straight nose and his long hair.
That evening, Hideo dreamt that he was perched up on the wall again, in their main living room, when in came his wife's cat, stalking a splash of moonlight. Hideo turned towards the cat, and when the cat saw him it jumped and hissed, reaching out to claw at him before running away. He tried to reach out to it, but the cat became even more terrified.
In the morning, when Hideo's wife could not find their cat, Hideo searched for hours while his wife called out for it. It returned late in the evening, when the sun was just beginning to set, and his wife gathered the cat up in her arms to reassure it.
Hideo made to pet the cat, but the animal trembled and ran, clawing his wife's arm in the process. He could not explain why the cat would act like this so suddenly, and tried to describe his dream to his wife for the first time.
The cat would not come near him in the dream, and now in real life the same thing occurred. She told him to simply try and forget about it if it bothered him so, but before they went to bed she offered him a piece of advice.
"If you have one of those dreams again, simply pinch yourself and you will wake up immediately," she said. "Then you will not have to worry about it."
That night Hideo dreamt again. He imagined himself in his room, opening the window to stick his head outside. He wanted to rise higher and higher to reach out and grasp the moon, but at the last second he remembered his wife's advice and pulled back inside, and pinched his left arm, hard.
The pain shot down his arm, but he did not wake up. He tried again, but still, it had no effect. Perhaps he was not actually dreaming, but was awake at that very moment?
"Hideo?" His wife had woken up when he closed the window and secured the latch, and he moved closer to her, looking down from his perch high up on the wall.
"I tried your advice," he told her. "I do not think I was dreaming at all."
"Come back to bed," she said, and held out her hands.
"I want to kiss you." Hideo moved to her side and she raised her hands to his arms, pressing them up to his shoulders and higher, up to his neck, moving up and up and up, over flat skin that bent and twisted under her fingertips. She screamed, lifting her hands higher, as his head bent down from its perch by the ceiling to actually look down at his stretched-out neck and limbs.
His arms slumped long and limp by his sides and when he glanced at them they seemed to grow longer and longer; he could not see the end of them from where they disappeared beneath the bed. His head bent down to move closer to her own. "Here I am. I'm right here."
Her hands found his face and traced its contours. Where his hair had been smooth before it was now pointed and sharp, and his nose and mouth had become as a creature's, terrifying and unnatural in the way that it resembled a hooked beak.
He had no lack of mirrors now; he saw himself clearly in the reflection in his wife's eyes.
He found his right hand and pinched himself again, hoping to wake up, and knowing that he never would—
A loud clunk causes Yugi to almost drop the book in surprise, and Honda gives an audible yelp.
"Relax," Shizuka says, glancing over to where Jonouchi's head had hit the wall when he fell over, asleep. "It's just my brother. Honestly, I'm surprised he lasted this long before falling asleep." She pauses. "You can let go of my hand now, Honda."
"Sorry." He squeezes it once before letting go.
"You, too."
"Sorry." He doesn't sound it in the slightest.
"Scary! Your turn to blow out a candle again, Shizuka." Yugi stifles a yawn of his own, his smile weakening from tiredness. "Do you mind if I go next, Honda? I'm afraid I won't make it, either. We should have bought some energy drinks or something, you know?"
Shizuka stands to go to the other room, selecting a candle and blowing it out. When she returns, the room is that much darker, and she slides back into place between Ryuuji and Honda.
"I don't mind at all," Honda says. "Be my guest."
"Thank you. This is a story," Yugi says, his voice low with suspense and soft with fatigue, "about a lake, and three bells…"
There was a legend in the area that a person could be granted a specific wish if they were able to cross a small lake to an island where three bells rested on a stone table. The gold bell was large, and very heavy, while the silver bell was the tiniest, so small it could fit over a person's smallest finger. Between them was a bell of bronze of medium size and weight, and each was gifted with unique properties.
The sound of the silver bell was said to bring the soul of a deceased person back to life, while the gold bell, when rung, was said to cause fortunes to spring from the casing. The bronze bell's sound would make any person who heard it young again.
Many people journeyed to the lake in the hopes of attaining one of these wishes, but their efforts were always defeated, for you see, the lake was actually a ghostly passage to the underworld, and whenever someone tried to swim across, spirits would rise up to drag the person underwater to their death.
One man, desperate for wealth, came to the lake. He was very strong; strong enough, he believed, to swim across fast enough to reach the island before the spirits could take him. He jumped in and swam, faster than the spirits, and raced up to the table to grab the golden bell.
He tugged and tugged, but the bell was too heavy to lift, even for one as strong as him, and the spirits latched onto his legs and dragged him underwater.
Another man thought he could outsmart the others. If all he needed to do was hear the sound of the bronze bell to become young again, he could just wait, hidden, for someone else to cross it and ring the bell, and the effects would benefit him as well. So he waited, and waited, and eventually fell asleep.
A man came with a boat, thinking that it would help him to cross faster and evade the spirits. He rowed across, seeking the bronze bell, and with the spirits close behind him, rang it over and over again. The years began to leave his body, but so did the muscles in his arms from working all day, so he was unable to row fast enough to leave the island and the spirits too dragged him under.
A fisherman came to try his luck. His baby son had just died, and his wife was inconsolable and he had promised her to try to ring the silver bell to bring him back. He had brought his fishing line with him, and cast it across the lake to try and hook it around the silver bell, figuring it would be light enough for him to reel it back. He caught the silver bell, and pulled the lure back; it rang out, and his heart was hopeful. Before he could reach it, however, a hand shot out of the lake and grabbed the bell, disentangling it from the line and pulling it underwater.
The man did not know if he had succeeded, but the sharp cry of an infant drew his attention. He followed the sound to a cluster of reeds where a baby boy was hidden in a pile of clothes. He examined both closer, and discovered that the clothes were made to fit a grown man. He took both home with him, gave the baby to his wife, and kept the clothes for himself.
"Was…that good?" Yugi yawns again, slumping back against the wall.
"I liked that you used your hands to make shadows, that was really creative," Shizuka says.
"I don't know how you're all doing this. These are good stories." Honda leans back on his arms; his shoulder brushes against Shizuka's, and the contact reminds him that no matter what, he has to stay awake. He'll never live this down if he doesn't.
"Let's make a pact," he continues, "to finish the game. We can do that, right?"
"I'm in," Shizuka says. "Ryuuji?"
"Yeah."
"Yugi?"
They look over to see Yugi sound asleep, using his jacket as a pillow.
"…Does that make me the King of Games if I can finish a game of Hyakumonogatari Kaidankai and he can't?" Ryuuji asks hopefully.
"Not sure. Ask him when he wakes up." Honda stretches lightly, turning his head to either side. "I know how we can finish faster. Let's team up—we'll each tell a part of the story, and the next person will add on more. Oh, and someone needs to blow out a candle for Yugi."
"On it," Ryuuji says. "You start the story."
There was a princess who was the most beautiful woman in the entire kingdom, and her name…was Shiori. She was talented at music and weaving and cooking and no one could ever find fault with her. She also had the power to transform herself into various animal shapes, but one day a Queen from another kingdom, out of jealousy, cursed her so she would be stuck in the next form she tried. As it turns out, when the kingdom went to war, the princess transformed herself into a dragon to be able to protect her kingdom, but when she flew to the battlefield, the soldiers, not knowing it was their princess when she could not turn back, turned on her. She flew away to a cave high on a mountain and stayed there in solitude, miserable of what had become of her.
She learned, however, that although her physical form could not change, her reflection always showed the beautiful princess that she was, and Shiori would go out to look at her reflection in lakes and rivers to remind herself of who she was—
"Honda, this is awful," Ryuuji comments. "And we were on such a roll."
"I was getting to the good part! The princess Shiori was going to be saved by a handsome prince, and then—"
"And when is it going to become a ghost story?" He sighs, watching as the flickering lights from the candles plays patterns on the floor, making the wood grain appear to come to life. Princesses and dragons and princes and curses. He can work with that. "I'll take over from here."
From a neighboring kingdom, Prince Ryuu was known far and wide as the bravest, most handsome prince there ever was. Everyone thought so, and the people of his kingdom routinely spoke of his many feats at dinnertime or gazed at the large portraits of him on display at the castle. One day, Ryuu was journeying across a mountain when he came to what appeared to be a fallen tree trunk. He stepped over it to calmly continue on his way, when out of nowhere came a dragon!
"That was my tail you stepped over," she said. "I have never seen such bravery from a person, to come near a dragon like that. You must be my champion!"
Now Ryuu had no idea at the time that it was a dragon, but he played it cool and said, "if you need a champion, I will do whatever is in my power to help you. Because I'm just that kind of man."
"You see, I am actually the Princess Shizu—Shiori, bound to this form until the curse that has been placed on me can be broken."
"And how do I break it?"
"The Queen—no, not your mother, the other Queen—placed the curse on me. Somehow you must find out how to break it."
"I will do it, and I will return to you."
Honda interrupts him. "You call that better?"
"I only work with what you give me."
"I like it so far," Shizuka says to mollify them. "Wait, did you hear that sound?"
"What sound?" Honda asks. "All I can hear is Jonouchi's snoring."
She giggles and shifts to stretch her legs out in front of her, leaning back against the wall. In the diminished candlelight it makes seeing each other more difficult, but they've moved closer, and she finds she doesn't mind it. It adds to the suspense of the storytelling, and she plans to transform the tale that they have created.
"So, what happens next…"
The dashing Prince Ryuu journeyed to the Queen's castle and sought an audience with her. The Princess Shiori had warned him that the Queen was a dangerous opponent—she had, after all, cursed her—but Ryuu was confident that she would not be a match for him.
"Why have you come to see me?" the Queen asked him.
"Do you not know why?"
"I am a monarch and a witch, not a psychic. State your business or depart, I have many people to see today."
"I seek a way to reverse the curse you have placed on Princess Shiori. She is a dragon, unable to return to her kingdom because of it. Reverse it now."
"So impolite," the Queen said. "You have a lesson to learn, and I will help you to learn it. What will you give me to end the curse?"
"Whatever you desire," Ryuu answered.
The Queen moved to a chest and rummaged in the drawers for a moment. She returned with a small box which she placed in Ryuu's hands.
"This box is magical and will reverse the curse. Bring the box to her, but you must not open it, hear me? And should you fail, I will take as my price the princess's ability. Does this sound fair to you?"
"Yes! Of course!" Ryuu leapt at the chance and agreed without hesitation.
"Good. Now go!"
He left, resuming his long journey to return to Shiori's side. He made it halfway back before he began to have second thoughts about the box.
"Is it possible that the Queen lied to me?" he said. "If she is as devious and untrustworthy as I believe her to be, then I should open the box and see what is inside. I bet it is poison, or a weapon, or some such trickery."
He continued this dialogue all the way to the base of the mountain. "I was told not to open it," he said. "But she lies. I know this. I must open it, to protect her!"
Resolved, he stopped and took the box in his hands, opening the lid on its hinges. Instantly, the magic inside took effect; by opening the box himself, he failed the quest. The Queen's punishment seized him, and he found himself shrinking and sprouting glossy black feathers all over his body. He became a bird, and, overwhelmed, soared off into the sky.
In Shiori's cave, the spell continued its course. With her ability stripped, she returned to her normal body, and made her way down the mountain to her kingdom. Convinced that it must have been Ryuu who helped her, she searched for him, but was unable to find him anywhere.
When she returned to her home, Shiori was welcomed and the entire kingdom celebrated. A grand feast was called for, with dozens of courses, and a hunt was planned, to ensure that there would be food for everyone. The king's men went out to catch the biggest fish and shoot down the best game, and when the feast approached, the princess was placed at the head of the table.
The courses passed in swift succession, from puddings and roasts to vegetables and fish served whole. One of the courses, a foreign kind of bird, was particularly remarkable, and she pronounced it delicious.
She continued to search for Prince Ryuu, but he was never found.
Shizuka trails off into silence, glancing expectantly between the two.
"Wow. That…got dark," is all Ryuuji can say.
"That's the fun of it," she replies. "Come on, who's next?"
They go back and forth, sometimes building off of each other, sometimes telling their own stories, as the candlelight dwindles. Never once do they consider stopping, only offering uneasy glances towards the other room or moving a bit closer to each other as they spin their tales.
Ryuuji's headband slumps down over his eyes, and he pushes it back. His hair is probably bunched up from it, and he wants to look at himself in the mirror and fix it.
"I'll tell the next story," he volunteers, realizing that the closest mirror was next door in the candle room. Only a handful are still burning, but it will be enough.
"There's that noise again," Shizuka says. "Don't you hear it? It's…like a creaking, rasping noise."
Jonouchi's snores are as loud as ever, adding an ominous soundtrack to their stories, but Honda concentrates, deep in thought. "You know, I think I hear something."
"Come on. No way." Now Ryuuji wants nothing less than to go into the candle room alone. Still, after his tale, he does, blowing one out and leaving only two left.
"Who's going to tell the last story?" He settles back down, sprawling ungainly beside Shizuka. "We need to decide…they get to blow out the last candle. And you know what happens then…"
"The spirits come out!" Shizuka sounds too excited over the prospect. "It'll be me. I'll tell the last story." She nudges Honda with an elbow. "You awake?"
"Yeah. I know, it's my turn, I can count."
There is a place that exists free of winter, of strife and of hunger, and those living there never age, but it is a world that could only be entered while dreaming. People create whole new lives for themselves there, with families and children, and each time they dream they stay longer and longer, and find it harder to want to even go back to their old lives.
The world is perfect, but anyone caught in it eventually goes insane in the real world from trying to find this place and the people they met there, who, if they exist at all, are just as assuredly searching for you and for the same world, to a hopeless outcome.
"Nice. You're getting better at this, Honda," Shizuka says.
One candle left. The room is all but dark; she hears that strange noise again, but doesn't comment on it. She thinks the others can hear it now, too.
She begins the last tale.
There was a butterfly woman only two inches tall. When the Emperor heard about her, he invited her to come to his court to entertain him and so he could marvel at her rareness. The butterfly woman agreed, and when she arrived at court she was instantly favored, and danced daily for them. Her dancing was made even more beautiful by the bright colors of her wings, and she hummed to create her own music.
Over time, the court's favor began to wane, as the Emperor was made aware of a new rarity in his kingdom. A weaver had been cursed as a spider was brought before him, who wove the most beautiful garments for the court out of silk.
Overcome with jealousy, the butterfly woman danced harder, but no one paid her attention any longer, so focused were they on the new oddity. Even the Emperor would dismiss her when she came to dance for him that evening, preferring to watch the spider spin a new robe for him.
The butterfly woman decided to seek revenge. You see, for having dined on milkweed as a caterpillar she was poisonous, and killed both the spider and the Emperor's court and danced in the sky at their funerals.
Honda had woven his arm through hers at some point in the story, and Shizuka disentangles herself, standing.
"Come on," she says, "it's not like all of the spirits are going to rush in here the moment the light goes out. It's just for fun, so we can say we finished the game."
She moves to the other room, leaving the door open just a crack as she approaches the last candle. It's sloped, with wax pooling at the base, and its light is barely reflected in the mirror. She cups her hands around the candle, and without wavering, blows it out.
Honda and Ryuuji wait together for the moment the candle goes out, both holding their breaths. The next second the light is gone, and the room seems that much darker than before. Then, the noise resumes, a rasping thud from the next room as the wall shakes and the door creaks open on its hinges. They can hear heavy footsteps, but there is no source—
"Ahh-!"
"Hold me!"
One of them shrieks, the other yells, and they both clutch each other as Shizuka is unable to hold her laughter any longer from the other room.
She stands in the doorway, drumming her shoes along the doorframe to replicate the sound of heavy footsteps and watches as the two sheepishly separate. "You should see your faces!"
"Oh, that is so not funny," Ryuuji starts, but Honda stops him with a shrug.
"You got us. I guess this makes you the winner, right? Does this game even have a winner?"
Shizuka drops the shoes and falls back into place between them, clasping both of their hands in hers. "It does now."
"Let's make another pact not to tell anyone about that," Ryuuji continues. "I think I can still hear my heartbeat—I swear my heart almost leapt out of my chest."
Shizuka leans her head against Ryuuji's shoulder; not to be outdone, Honda duplicates the motion with her own.
"Hmm. That would make a good story."
End.
Notes:
1) Hyakumonogatari Kaidankai is played as described (except with 100 stories, and with paper lanterns instead of candles). Look it up if you're intrigued, it was very interesting to read about.
2) I made up all of the stories, although a few have roots in traditional Kaidan stories (the rokurokubi, for one, are the spirits with the twisting necks and limbs; Jonouchi's tale was very obviously inspired by the Flame Swordsman Duel Monsters card; from Yugi's story, water was seen as a passage to the underworld; the opening story features an underworld court inspired by Mesopotamian legend).
3) Thank you for reading. I would appreciate and value your reviews.
~Jess