The Eight-Foot Ghost (1)

Ryu Harin blinked. And just like that, the person standing outside the window vanished. The pooo droning sound faded away too.

...Was it just my imagination?

It felt too unsettling to dismiss as mere imagination. Ryu Harin steadied her breathing and scanned her surroundings warily. Then came a light knock knock at the door.

"Harin...? You're taking a while. Is something wrong...?"

Mayuri's voice came from the other side of the door. Ryu Harin let out a brief sigh of relief as she replied.

"No... It's nothing like that..."

"You're not feeling sick or anything, right...?"

"I don't think it's a physical illness, probably."

"W-Well, that's a relief, then..."

Sensing movement beyond the door, Ryu Harin hesitated. Should I say something? Or keep quiet?

Am I caught up in some anomaly?

As a Foundation employee, such thoughts were inevitable. Hallucinations and auditory illusions.

...Is this anomaly visible and audible only to me?

That would actually be a relief. It would mean the unknown phenomenon was targeting only her. Even in the worst case, it would end with just her life.

She didn't want to die, but if only one person had to, it should be her. That was the rule for Foundation employees.

Lives as fleeting as a fly's—ready to end tomorrow, or even today. So Ryu Harin always kept herself unburdened. Minimizing family ties, avoiding new friends, never even attempting romance.

That mindset was what she considered professional conduct as a Foundation operative.

"H-Harin...? I-Is it taking that long...? ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠There really is something wrong, isn't there...?"

Mayuri's voice from beyond the door sounded worried, yet slightly urging her on.

If she told Mayuri about this, would Mayuri get dragged into it too? They could both end up in danger.

......

...I need to get out first.

Even if she confessed later, they needed to face each other first. With that thought, Ryu Harin reached for the door handle.

Or rather, she tried to.

"......?"

Ryu Harin froze without knowing why. There wasn't a clear reason; it was just a vague sense of wrongness.

Why talk to her from outside the bathroom? This wasn't a private one—it was a shared public restroom. If she was worried, she could just come in.

And Mayuri's voice... it sounded like it was coming from a bit higher up. But Mayuri was tiny.

"...I have a stomachache. It'll take a little longer. Could you go back and wait?"

Ryu Harin said that. Then...

"......"

No response from Mayuri. There was a faint rustling, then:

Pooo—...

A sound from Mayuri's voice, like a sigh mixed with resignation. Ah, she saw through me...—that kind of vibe.

Thud thud thud thud...

The presence gradually receded.

......

How long did she wait? Nothing could be felt beyond the bathroom door anymore. Ryu Harin cautiously opened it.

No one was there.

".............."

Ryu Harin returned to the private room. There sat Mayuri and her group, apparently finished with their meal.

"Harin, you took forever. Dessert's out."

"...Mayuri, did you happen to go to the bathroom?"

"Bathroom? No? Haven't been."

Mayuri just ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠tilted her head.

"Something happen?"

"......No. Nothing happened."

Ryu Harin sat down and pulled out her phone, firing off a message right away.

"...I think I need to head out first."

"Huh? No dessert?"

Mayuri pointed to the after-meal dessert sitting at Ryu Harin's spot. Ryu Harin shook her head, grabbing her handbag.

"Something came up at work. I'll cover the bill, so someone eat the dessert."

"H-Harin... Wait a sec..."

Ryu Harin hurried out. She paid at the counter, headed to the parking lot, and drove off.

Head to a safe spot or the Foundation. No safe places came to mind. Temples or shamans might protect her, but she had no idea if any were nearby.

A bit far, but the Foundation was the surest bet. She turned the key.

Pooo— pooooo—

"Ugh..."

The hallucination droned again. At the same time, thud thud thud—something pounded on the car window.

A skeletal hand, gaunt to the point of emaciation, twisted at the joints like a mummy's. The monster's hand gripped the door handle.

Click click click click!

Locked, so it didn't open. Then 'it' pressed its face to the window.

Pooo— pooooo—

Hollow eye sockets. A half-melted face. It mumbled through its twisted mouth, then spoke.

"Ryu Harin, this is Assistant Manager Park Jong-cheol. We have personnel available for dispatch now. Stop and stand by."

"H-Harin... It's Mayuri... They said the restaurant payment didn't go through... So I need to come back..."

"My daughter, where are you off to now? Let's have a nice family meal sometime. Should we call your brother and go out for dinner?"

"...Shut up."

Ryu Harin floored the accelerator.

Sparrows chirp what we call 'tweet tweet.' But is that exact? Humans just label it that way for convenience. A real analysis might yield something else entirely.

Sparrows don't chirp with set pronunciation anyway.

The pooo was just the monster clearing its throat. Like a singer before a song, prepping to mimic humans.

Did the monster even grasp the meaning of its words? Ryu Harin understood—it was just instinctively trying to deceive her.

".............."

Since she wasn't falling for it, did the monster give up? It vanished from the window at some point.

Did it back off?

Thinking that, Ryu Harin looked ahead.

The monster stood right in front.

"Eek!"

Ryu Harin yanked the wheel on reflex. Already speeding, precise control was impossible. The outcome was inevitable.

-KABOOM!

The car slammed into the guardrail. Intense impact flooded her body.

Pain. Dizziness. Nausea.

In her shaken mind, Ryu Harin saw: thud, thud, thud. Each step vibrated the ground.

Through the shattered window, it reached in. The monster's hand drew closer, bit by bit. Its fingertip brushed her nape.

***

"...Ari, eating with your hands got them all dirty."

I pulled out a wet wipe and handed it to Ari. She mumbled around her food, taking it.

Glancing at Ari wiping her hands beside me, we passed the counter.

"D-Did you pay...?"

"Yes. Another customer covered it before leaving."

So Ryu Harin had already left the restaurant. I scanned around as soon as we stepped outside.

No sign of her. And I'd chased after her in a hurry.

How much of a hurry? Ari had to grab the dessert Ryu Harin left—with her bare hands. No chopsticks, no fork.

Even so, Ryu Harin was too quick; I couldn't catch up.

"But Mayuri, why are you chasing that person?"

"She seemed off..."

Strange sounds, someone outside the window. And bolting out like that—it didn't sit right.

Ryu Harin was Superstar Sardine, after all. Always stepping on death flags. Probably tangled in something weird again.

I'd gone to the trouble of saving her; if she died somewhere I didn't know about, it'd bug me...

"Mayuri, that lady was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in the driver's seat of the car that just passed."

"Huh...? For real?"

Lisa nodded, pointing at a car.

"Q-Quick, chase it...!"

Sometimes I get these bad vibes. This was one.

I'd read that 'bad vibes' aren't just feelings—it's big data from decades of life reacting. Hard to put into words, but yeah.

So I ran.

"H-Hurts... tired..."

Of course, my trash stamina midway turned it into Ari dragging me.

Fortunately, we caught up to the car somehow.

It had crashed into the guardrail.

"Huh...?"

I'd watched it speed fine, then suddenly swerve—in real time. What happened?

Then—the passenger door flew open.

"Hah... hah..."

Ryu Harin tumbled out halfway onto the ground. Something seemed to be on the driver's side; she scooted away furtively.

Scraped by glass shards? Blood trickled from her forehead, and she couldn't steady herself—probably hurt bad. Limping, she ran.

"Looks like she's being chased. By what, though?"

Lisa tilted her head. Invisible to her eyes.

Invisible to mine too.

One monster came to mind.

The Eight-Foot Ghost. Known for its enormous height.

A monster that relentlessly pursues just one person.

No one else fixated on can see it or hear its voice.

"...But if I can't see it either, how ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠do I help?"

Cute girl punch probably off the table. I glanced at Lisa.

"I can't slice what I can't see either."

Yeah, figured...?