The campus of Sakuragaoka High had been utterly transformed. The usual atmosphere of quiet diligence was swept away by a tidal wave of color, noise, and chaotic joy. The Cultural Festival was in full, glorious swing. Paper lanterns hung between buildings, the air smelled of sizzling takoyaki and sweet cotton candy, and every classroom door promised a new world.
Class 1-B's "Chamber of Silent Screams" was a runaway success. A steady, chattering line of students snaked out of their door and down the hallway. The soundtrack was perfect: bursts of nervous laughter going in, followed by genuine shrieks and yelps, and finally, wobbly-kneed, wide-eyed students staggering out with exhilarated, terrified grins on their faces.
"Dude, the ghost at the end… her smile… I almost cried!"
"That was insane! The jump scare with the well was perfect!"
Word spread like wildfire. The haunted house wasn't just good; it was an experience. It was the must-see attraction of the first-year wing.
While his classmates reveled in their haunted triumph, Kaito Sato was on a different kind of tour. As a student council member—a role he'd always treated as a series of administrative tasks—he had been assigned, along with a few others, to formally review and document each class's festival offering. It was a logical, observational duty that suited him.
He moved through the crowded hallways with a clipboard, his expression one of detached analysis. He sampled a perfectly average crepe from Class 2-A's cafe (rating: 6/10 for texture, 5/10 for flavor balance). He observed the intricate mechanics of Class 3-B's elaborate Rube Goldberg machine (noting several points of potential friction-based failure). He listened to the live acoustic band in the courtyard (sound dispersion was poor near the west wall). His notes were clinical, a stark contrast to the celebratory chaos around him.
Meanwhile, at the school gate, two familiar figures met. Aiko, dressed in a trendy sweater and jeans, her eyes sparkling with anticipation, waved at Kenji, who looked both amused and slightly out of his element in the sea of teenagers.
"Ready to be culturally enriched?" Aiko grinned.
"As long as there's food that doesn't require a bravery waiver," Kenji replied, laughing. "Lead the way, expert."
They fell into step, becoming two more faces in the happy crowd. They visited a classic shooting gallery, where Aiko dominated and Kenji pretended not to be impressed. They tried their hand at goldfish scooping, failing spectacularly but laughing as the paper nets dissolved. The festive energy was contagious, even for a university student and a busy older brother.
Eventually, the buzz and the growing line led them to the first-year hallway and the infamous "Chamber of Silent Screams."
"A haunted house!" Aiko's eyes lit up with the fervor of a true horror otaku. "This is non-negotiable. We're going in."
Kenji eyed the pale-faced students exiting. "Do I get life insurance?"
They paid their tickets and entered the labyrinth of darkness. Even knowing it was their siblings' creation, the effect was masterful. The chilling atmosphere, the sudden noises, the cleverly placed scares—it all worked. Aiko giggled with delight at every jump, while Kenji let out a few genuine, startled yelps. When they finally reached the final room and the pale, sorrowful ghost with the terrifying smile slowly turned towards them, even Aiko gasped.
The ghost's head tilted. The terrifying smile softened into a look of pure surprise.
"Aiko? Kenji?"
The voice was Hikari's. She was on a short break, still in full, chilling makeup and costume, taking a sip of water behind a black curtain.
"Hikari!" Aiko clapped her hands, her fear instantly replaced by glee. "You were incredible! That smile was Oscar-worthy! You totally got me!"
Kenji let out a long, relieved breath, a proud grin spreading across his face. "You almost gave your big brother a heart attack. That's my sister. Seriously, this is amazing. The whole setup."
Hikari, unused to such direct and enthusiastic praise, especially while in character, looked down, a faint blush invisible under the white makeup. "It's… the whole class. They built most of it."
"Where's the mastermind?" Kenji asked, looking around the dimly lit control area backstage. "I assume Kaito engineered the schedule for maximum terror efficiency."
Hikari shook her head. "He's not here. The student council has him reviewing every class's project. He's… busy. Investigating."
Aiko snorted. "Of course he is. Leave it to my brother to turn a festival into a quality assurance audit." Her tone was fond. "Well, tell him his scary sister and her brilliant ghost friend are the talk of the festival when you see him."
They said their goodbyes, leaving Hikari to her break. As they emerged, blinking, into the bright hallway, the sounds of laughter and distant music welcomed them back.
"Investigating, huh?" Kenji mused as they walked away from the haunted house queue. "Sounds about right."
"He's probably grading the cotton candy on structural integrity and the ring toss on statistical probability," Aiko laughed, linking her arm with his. "Come on, let's find the cafe with the highest Yelp-in-my-mind rating. I need sugar after that."
Back in the festival throng, Kaito continued his methodical rounds, clipboard in hand. He was cataloging the event with perfect accuracy, yet completely separate from its heart. He didn't know that his sister and his friend's brother had just braved the labyrinth he'd helped plan, or that the ghost at its center was waiting, in her chilling makeup, for a report from the one investigator who hadn't yet experienced the scare.
(End of Chapter 27)
Chapter 28: The Unseen Chill
Kaito and the small contingent of student council members reached the end of their formal review circuit. The destination was the most talked-about attraction in the entire festival: Class 1-B's "Chamber of Silent Screams."
Even the normally stoic council seniors were buzzing with second-hand reports. Kaito walked beside them, clipboard at the ready. He had processed the budget for black cloth, approved the electrical layouts, and optimized the volunteer schedule. He knew the haunted house as a series of data points and logistical solutions. He did not know it as an experience.
They were ushered to the front of the line—a council prerogative—and stepped into the darkness.
The change was immediate. The theoretical maze of curtains became a claustrophobic, twisting path. The strobe lights he'd approved for safety and effect now disoriented his perfect sense of direction. The recorded whispers and groans, which he'd catalogued as audio files, now felt like breath on the back of his neck.
Kaito's analytical mind tried to maintain control, mapping their progress against his mental blueprint. Left turn here, three steps, the well prop should be—
A gnarled, cold hand shot out from a hidden alcove, brushing his wrist.
Kaito's entire body jolted. A sharp, involuntary inhale cut through his usual silent breathing. His grip on the clipboard tightened, knuckles white in the fleeting strobe light. The council member behind him let out a stifled squeak.
They moved forward, the tension coiling tighter. The council's mission—to judge concept, execution, and crowd appeal—was completely forgotten, swallowed by the base, primal goal of getting through the next dark corner without screaming.
Then, they reached the final chamber. The air grew cold. A single, pale figure in a tattered kimono stood in a dim pool of light, back turned, radiating profound sorrow.
As the guide's flashlight trembled toward her, the figure slowly began to turn.
Kaito knew it was Hikari. Logically, he knew the costume, the makeup, the role. He had seen the makeup tests. But logic evaporated in the crafted atmosphere. The slow turn, the hollow, pale face lifting, the eyes finding his in the gloom… it was unnervingly perfect.
And then, the smile.
It wasn't Hikari's smirk or her rare, genuine smile. It was a slow, chilling distortion of joy that promised nothing good. It was the most terrifying thing Kaito had ever seen, because it was worn by someone he knew.
His perfect composure shattered.
He took an abrupt, stumbling step backward, colliding with the council member behind him. His eyes, usually so cool and detached, were wide with genuine, uncalculated shock. The clipboard slipped from his grasp, clattering loudly on the floor—a sound of pure defeat in the silent room.
For a single, glorious second, the Ice Prince was completely, utterly off guard.
The ghost's smile wavered, almost breaking character in surprise at her own effectiveness. Then the lights came up slightly, signaling the end of the experience.
A beat of stunned silence was broken by the lead council senior, a third-year known for her unflappable demeanor. She let out a shaky laugh, pressing a hand to her chest. "That… was absolutely perfect. Concept, execution, acting… full marks. I haven't been that scared since my last calculus final."
The other members murmured awed agreement, picking up Kaito's fallen clipboard and handing it back to him. He took it, his face a masterpiece of forced neutrality, but a faint, unprecedented flush was visible on his neck. Hoshino Shizuka, who had been part of the review group, merely nodded, her face pale, offering no critique. The two coldest people in the school had just been handed a perfect score in fear.
With reviews complete, the council disbanded to enjoy the final hours of the festival. The winner was already decided in their minds, but the official announcement would come later.
Kaito left the council room, the phantom chill of the haunted house still clinging to him. He needed to recalibrate, to process the unexpected system failure of his own nerves.
"BOO."
He flinched—a full-body jerk this time—before turning to see Aiko, Kenji, and Hikari (now in normal clothes, though still with traces of gray in her hair) grinning at him from around a corner.
"Got you again!" Aiko crowed in delight. "Your face in there was priceless! The great Kaito Sato, felled by a ghost!"
Kenji chuckled. "We saw you go in with the suits. We waited. That was the best review you could have given, you know."
Hikari just looked at him, a real, small smile playing on her lips—a stark, warm contrast to the ghost's smile still burned in his memory. "You dropped your clipboard," she said simply.
Kaito, surrounded by their teasing and seeing Hikari's real smile, felt the last of the tension melt away, replaced by a different, warmer fluster. "The… atmospheric manipulation was highly effective," he conceded, which sent Aiko into another fit of laughter.
They became an instant festival attraction in their own right: the legendary former council president Aiko, the Ice Prince, the school's most infamous loner-turned-star-ghost, and her cool older brother. As they moved through the stalls, playing games and sharing snacks, they drew curious and admiring glances from every direction.
The attention was manageable until they rounded a stall selling candied apples and nearly collided with Hoshino Shizuka, who was speaking quietly with a group of other council members.
Hoshino's eyes went wide. She saw Aiko first, and years of ingrained respect for the former, revered president took over. She immediately bowed deeply at the waist. "Aiko-senpai! It's an honor to see you!"
The sudden formality in the middle of the festive chaos was jarring. Aiko waved a hand, embarrassed. "At ease, Shizuka-chan! No titles today, please!"
But the damage was done. The bow had drawn every eye in the vicinity. The spotlight was now a searchlight. Kaito saw Hikari subtly shrink back. Without a word, he caught Aiko's eye and gave a tiny shake of his head. Kenji, picking up the signal, grinned.
"Okay, squad, tactical retreat!" Kenji announced, steering them all swiftly behind a large festival tapestry depicting a giant cartoon daruma, hiding them from the staring crowd and the flustered vice president.
From their hiding spot, they shared a look of mutual understanding and stifled laughter. The rest of the festival was spent in joyful, unobserved freedom—winning ridiculous prizes, eating too much, and simply existing as a unit of four.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows over the littered, happy grounds, Aiko and Kaito prepared to leave.
"That," Aiko declared, linking her arm with her brother's, "was a properly executed festival. Good work, everyone."
Kenji saluted. Hikari nodded.
"Bye," Kaito said to Hikari and Kenji, the simple word carrying the weight of the shared, hidden laughter and the unseen chill they had all conquered together.
As he walked away with his sister, the sounds of the dying festival behind him, Kaito realized the review had been incomplete. The winning concept wasn't just a haunted house. It was the unplanned, un-reviewed, and perfectly imperfect fun that had followed it.
(End of Chapter 28)