She has yet to see the property and is starting to regret it.
Suzushiro Haruka stood before a Meiji-era house in the Kyoto outskirts. Surrounding her was an expanse of mountainous terrain. The gloomy treeline enveloped the house, making an uneasy feeling dwell within her gut. The only reason she's even here is because of Kyoto's outrageous housing market. For whatever reason, this house was mystifyingly cheap. It makes no sense. Perhaps it's due to the house being put onto the market in the early noughties? Another red flag about this place is there's hardly any information about it: Nor are there any neighbours for minutes—if not miles. Alas, curiosity has gotten the better of her.
Approaching the gate apprehensively, Haruka noticed that the wood was brittle with age. It looks as though this gate hadn't undergone any restoration at all. Albeit for the brand new steel chain and padlock. The avant-garde security was securely wrapped around the gate's handles.
At least she had received the key last month?
Unpocketting it, Haruka slipped it into the lock. Pulling the heavy chain from the worn handles, she unsurely stood there. Where should...—she supposed she ought to bring these inside.
Slipping through, the front of the house was presented to Haruka. A small roji—a tea ceremony garden—is excessively overgrown. Oh, right! Now she remembered: That's the only snippet of information she had received. This used to be a chashitsu—a tea house—that was expanded upon during the Taisho era.
Dumping the chain and padlock, she walked through the roji garden. Following the path around the corner, there's another door with an identical hefty lock. Strange, considering the walls are literally made from paper. Had urban explorers trespassed here at some point? It certainly wasn't helping that foreboding sensation within her gut. Nevertheless, she is now here and hadn't a choice in the matter.
Here a genkan had been clumsily installed within the entrance. Looking back to the door, Haruka mused. Has the door and this part of the floor been lowered for this section? She couldn't tell, but clearly this area for shoes seemed botched. Even the step looked as if it had collapsed inward long ago. How? Pushing it from her mind, Haruka kicked off her shoes and wandered further inside.
The corridor is narrow—claustrophobically so. Opening the closest shoji door, the teahouse's original room was revealed. Even the tatami matting looked worse for wear. But, what caught Haruka's eyes the most, were the dozens of ofuda stuck to the walls. Heading inside, she touched along a crickled one. These were protection seals, weren't they? "What the hell?" She muttered under her breath.
In Japan, an occasional ofuda would be used. Both for protection and good luck. But this many? It's far too much! One she's specifically inspecting states it's protected by a nearby shrine. Meanwhile, the one beside it is from a different prefecture altogether. What the hell has she gotten herself into?
Hours later, with boxes piling the corridors, a weary Haruka makes a call.
"Eh, I don't know, Yukino. I have a funny feeling about this place." Haruka spoke over the phone. She's sat cross-legged within the teahouse's original room, with a telephone within its centre. Content to listen, Haruka idly fiddled with the ruined edge of a tatami. "There's ofuda everywhere, the tatami are straw—even the toilet isn't modern!" She lamented.
Haruka appreciated tradition as much as the next person, but seriously? The bare minimum has been done to this place. It's infuriating. Worse, she wants to get to the bottom of this? "Who the hell does that company think they are?" Kanzaki Architects had stated they had installed electricity and gas. There had been photographic proof of refurbishment and restoration as well. The latter was not included.
Clearly, Suzushiro Haruka has been scammed.
Ghastly Abode
Chapter I: Bewildering Gloom
By Twisted Eternal Wolvetta
It's the dead of night when Haruka hears something outside the room. Or rather, it's been several minutes now. Down the engawa behind the shoji walls, she heard shuffling. It momentarily stops directly behind her, to again move. Moments later, it would then return, repeating this action persistently.
Frankly, it's starting to piss her off.
Throwing the duvet off herself, Haruka lumbered towards the shoji and slid it open aggressively. Left to right she glared down the engawa. But mystifyingly, she was greeted by nought. Only the darkness of the night introduced itself, with the drone of insects. Gaze narrowing, she edged back inside and closed the door.
「す、ず、し、ろ。」
A chilled gust pulsed through her body as the disembodied voice whispered at her. Spinning around, she apprehensively stared within the black. Nobody's here. Yet, the hair on the back of her neck pricks, giving her an awful feeling. No. Someone is here. "Who's there?!" She demanded of the shadows. Instead of receiving an answer, her ears twitch upon a click within the house. Leaping into action, Haruka sought for the light switch.
At least the house has electricity and gas?
Temporarily blinded, Haruka winces before throwing open the door to the corridor. Again she echoed the scene from before: Glaring to and fro down this section of the house. Nothing. But Haruka's not as stupid as she may sometimes seem. Switching on the light within the corridor, her sights were upon the extension.
Down the corridor were the kitchen and dining rooms which had been added during the Taisho period. The noise had come from this area, and so, Haruka stormed towards them. This crusade however, is hindered, for the voice returned.
「は、る、か！」
Blacking out, Haruka slams to the floor.
Ugh, her head's killing her.
Disorientated, Haruka beheld her surroundings. Why is she in the corridor? Scrambling to her feet, she leans against a nearby timber frame. Much to her bafflement, the talismans from the main tea-room were plastered all across the corridor. The ofuda ink glowed brightly crimson: Alike a higanbana—red spider lily—of death. They hummed, sparking an internal dread within Haruka.
W-what's… this?
「あなたは私のどす！」
She's who's? Before Haruka could comprehend her situation, a wave of nausea slammed her. Crumpling to her knees, she gasps out. Then, standing, another flood of confusion overwhelmed Haruka. She wasn't controlling herself?
'It is strange to have control over a physical body again.'
Like a marionette, Haruka raises her hands to study them. She still has no control and feels oh so cold. Wait. A sudden realisation entered her mind: Those ofuda were failing to seal a youkai, weren't they? "Sto—"
'—I shan't.'
"Then what are you?" Haruka growled under her breath, getting increasingly annoyed.
'It is miraculous that you do not fear me. Others before were terrified of m—'
"—Just answer me!" The provoking sensation waned suddenly. Releasing a relieved breath, Haruka remained still for a moment. Is she going mad, or had a youkai tried to possess her? Lumbering towards the tea room, she wearily searched for her phone. Haruka's way too exhausted for this drama. She even forgets that the ofuda had teleported out of this room.
Finding it under her futon's covers, she checks the time: 3:41am. Had she been knocked out cold in the corridor for long? It doesn't matter. With that, the tired and impatient Suzushiro Haruka got back into bed.
'...I died during the fourteenth year of Meiji. I was this chashitsu's host. My name is Fuji—"
"—Shut up already you stupid youkai! I'm trying to sleep!"
「...おやすみやす。」
A/N: (すずしろ) Suzushiro (はるか) Haruka. I used hiragana in place of kanji here because I wanted to use syllables. The Japanese comma can be used for stuttering (は、はるか...) so I feel this translated over well. I wanted Shizuru to feel "outworldly" and "traditional". This is why I had her initially speak Japanese. Originally I was using French quotation marks with romaji, but it wasn't fitting right. Example: «Ha-ru-ka!»
The Japanese I used is in Kyoto-ben.
(あなたは私のどす)！You are mine! (anata wa watashi no dosu).
(おやすみやす) Goodnight (oyasumiyasu).
Shizuru died in 1881.