Chapter 4:

It’s Convenient to Say It’s Only Your Imagination

At Night, the Dead End is There

At that moment, I thought, “This is absolutely impossible, I’m moving, I’m going to tell someone.”

But then, in the morning, the light comes in through the window, I start the washing machine, take out the trash, buy yogurt at the convenience store, and as I do these normal things, I gradually start to think, “Well, maybe I was really tired.”

It’s convenient to think it’s all in your head, isn’t it?

Because you can put everything away there.

Even when I ask my brother, “Did you hear it again yesterday?”, he’s like, “Huh? What?” He’s like that. Even though he said it himself yesterday, the next day he acts like it’s none of his business.

I couldn’t tell my mother.

She would definitely say, “It’s because you’re staying up late.”

...Ah, but saying I couldn’t tell her is half a lie.

I felt like I shouldn’t say anything.

I felt like if I properly mentioned what happened in that hallway, they would notice.

“They,” that sounds strange, doesn’t it?

But I had that feeling.

Around that time, I had updated my smartphone. I had installed an app that automatically recorded steps and sleep. At first, it was kind of fun to look at, right? Like, “Wow, I walked this much today.”

So, after a few days, I casually looked at the records from the middle of the night.

That day, at 2:13 AM.

Normally, the distance from my room to the toilet is less than a few meters. At most, maybe a dozen steps round trip.

But only at that time of day.

The record showed an increase of a little over thirty steps.

I was surprised.

At first, I thought it was a bug.

But sometimes apps do that, don’t they? Like the step count increasing because you toss and turn in your sleep.

So, that’s what I really thought at first.

However, the following week...

I woke up again at 2:13 AM.

No, I didn’t wake up, I felt like I was woken up. I hadn’t set an alarm, but something in my brain's clock went “click.” That hallway wouldn't let me sleep.

That day, even though I was scared, I wanted to check.

I stood at the entrance to my room, looking at my phone with the new app equip.

I wasn’t walking at first, I took it slow, looking down the hallway.

A dark, ordinary hallway. A dead end at six steps.

...Or so I thought.

My phone vibrated.

I thought it was a notification, so I looked, and a small banner for a pedometer app popped up.

“Today’s steps: 7”

But I hadn’t taken a step yet.

I actually said out loud, “What is this?”

At that moment...

From the dark end of the hallway...

A tap.

The sound came right around the seventh step.

The dead end was there.

...Oh, excuse me.

Please wait a moment.

My hands are getting cold as I talk.

No, really. Even if I say “look, there,” you probably can’t see. Haha. Ugh, it’s not funny.

But if I stop here, I feel like it’ll probably come back.

So, I’ll tell you. Properly.

That night, when it said “Today’s Steps: 7.”

I really hadn’t stepped out into the hallway at all.

I was standing at the edge of the flooring at the entrance to my room, with my toes sticking out. I was holding my smartphone and looking out into the dark hallway.

I collected courage to turn on my phone light and flash it down the hallway once and for all. What came was nothing out of the ordinary. Lowering my phone and turning it off, I was scoffing at my paranoia.

And yet, it showed seven steps.

Immediately after that, I heard the tap sound quite close.

I should have run away at that point.

I should have closed the door to my room and stayed under the covers until morning.

But sometimes, even when you’re scared, you become strangely calm about the wrong things, right?

“Oh, so the seventh step wasn’t mine,” I thought.

That’s what I thought. The hallway is odd if it’s dark.

In other words, I wasn’t the one stepping; someone else was stepping over there.

The moment I thought that, I suddenly wanted to confirm it.

...Stupid, right?

At that time, I had my hair loosely tied back. Since I was at home, it wasn’t a proper hair tie, but a cheap three-pack I bought at a convenience store. A black ones.

For some reason, I took it off.

And I shot it down the hallway, into the blind darkness.

Oh, it wasn’t that dramatic. Really lightly.

In the dark, you can’t see a black ring, so of course I couldn’t see where it landed.

But you can hear the sound, right?

Like it hitting the floor and rolling.

I thought it would hit the wall and make a smacking sound.

That’s what I thought.

...But there was no sound.

Nothing.

Really, nothing.

It was like it was sucked in.

Well, if you say it’s because it’s a light hair tie, then I guess that’s true. But it was close, wasn’t it? Six steps away. And it was the middle of the night, so quiet.

Yet, there was no sound.

I got the creeps and said a small rejection, “Ugh, no.”

Then, from the dark place in front of me,

“...No.”

The same woman’s voice, rather, clearer than ever.

This time, it was even closer.

Not further than seven steps, but still out of sight.

At that point, I almost dropped my phone for real.

I slammed my room door shut, I locked it, and put on the old chain lock. It was pointless. Even though I knew it was pointless, my hands moved on their own.

I crawled under the covers and couldn’t sleep until morning.

When morning came, it was incredibly bright.

I felt like everything was so stupid.

“Come on, it’s just a hair tie, it must have fallen somewhere,” I told myself, and went to look in the hallway.

But it wasn’t there. Really, nowhere.

Not in the hall or the unit bathroom.

Not on the wall at the dead end.

It simply wasn’t there.

I hadn’t vacuumed, so there was plenty of hair and dust. Nothing but the black hair tie was missing.

Later, that late evening. When I got home from school and unlocked my door...

It was in the kitchen sink.

On top of the wet drain net.