This is a story about a region in Kyushu, let’s call it “S District,” which is known as the “Ura S District” in the area beyond the mountains. Currently, it is referred to as the “New S District,” but the grandparents still call it the Ura S District. Well, the term “Ura” carries a negative connotation, implicitly referring to the location of the buraku community. It’s a region where lectures on discrimination against buraku communities were frequent during high school days. This is a story from that place.
Several years ago, a boy (let’s call him A) went missing. (Eventually, it was discovered that he had committed suicide.) I am from S District, while he was from the Ura S District, but he attended a high school in S District. Well, he used to be my friend. I emphasize “used to be.” We were close in the first year. That is until he started bullying another student. And that student being bullied was me. No one around us tried to stop it. They didn’t stop him or even look. They were not even bystanders. Despite my desperate pleas to make him stop, he continued hitting and kicking me. Since it started suddenly, at first, I thought it was just a fight, so I fought back. However, there was a vast difference in strength between him and me due to our physique. But the next day, he suddenly attacked me again for no reason. He wouldn’t answer when asked why. He had a faint smile on his face, which made it all the more terrifying.
One day, A suddenly stopped coming to school. I was quite relieved. But in that situation, no one dared to talk to me anymore. I experienced true loneliness. I was in the midst of a crowd, yet felt utterly alone. After A had been absent from school for three weeks, a teacher called me out. The following is our conversation:
Teacher: “You were close with A, right?”
Me: “Well…”
Teacher: “Hmm… Have you been bullying A?”
Me: “Huh? Me? Is it me? Or did A bully me?”
Teacher: “No, it’s you. Don’t worry, I won’t make it a problem if you confess.”
Me: “No, is it really me?”
At that moment, I genuinely didn’t understand. In the teacher’s view, I was the one doing the bullying. So, I decided to tell the truth.
Me: “Honestly, I didn’t want to say it, but I was the one being bullied… I was subjected to violence in front of everyone, being punched and kicked…”
Teacher: “Is that true? You? Did other students witness it?”
Me: “They saw it. Why did you think I was the one bullying? Did someone say something?”
Teacher: “No… Well, it’s nothing.”
The teacher’s attitude was clearly strange at this point. They seemed flustered for some reason. Then, for a few minutes, we both fell into silence. After those few minutes, the teacher suddenly spoke up.
Teacher: “A has been absent, you know? I don’t know why, but it seems like he’s refusing to come to school. When I called his house, his parents said he wasn’t there.”
Me: “…”
Teacher: “And yesterday, I finally managed to contact A and asked him about it. What he said was that he finds you scary.”
Me: “Huh? Me?”
Teacher: “Hmm… That’s what he said. He said you’re scary.”
Me: “No, no, it’s the opposite. A is the one who’s scary to me.”
Teacher: “I see, well, I understand. Let me ask you again, have you been bullying A?”
Me: “No.”
After that exchange, I was released and went back home.
I used to think that real bullying involved multiple people targeting one person. I had witnessed bullying in middle school, and I considered that to be bullying based on that image. The bullying I often heard about usually involved a group of people extorting money from someone or exposing them naked in the restroom. I thought that was what bullying was about. I never imagined that just one person would bully another person and involve the teacher, making me the outcast.
It was the first time in my life that I felt a desire to kill someone. Not just punching them, but actually wanting to kill them. I thought about it seriously.
The next day, I skipped school. I couldn’t bring myself to go, and even if I did, I would be alone. That’s what I thought. However, during this period of refusing to go to school, I witnessed something unimaginable, and my mind started to become a little unhinged.
What happened was a “jumping suicide.” Someone jumped from the apartment building where I lived. By chance, I was waiting for the elevator in the hallway, and I heard a bizarre sound, like “Geeeek,” and a few seconds later, a loud “Doooon!” sound.
That “Doooon” sound seemed to be the sound of the person falling onto the roof of the bicycle parking area. When I peeked and saw it, I felt intense nausea and tears welled up. It was just fear, but for me, who had been bullied, it was a huge wound. It became a real trauma, and even now I can’t ride the elevator. I can still manage to ride elevators in buildings like offices, but I can’t ride those with a view of the outside, like the ones in the apartment building.
Because at that moment, I saw something absolutely impossible.
When I looked forward again, while looking down at the bicycle parking area, I saw a spiral staircase. There, standing with the exact same clothes and hairstyle as the person who had fallen , was a human. I think I shouldn’t have looked at it. The person was slowly descending the spiral staircase, facing downward all the time. The human was exactly the same as what was below. I think it was there. Maybe it was there. But I don’t remember it well. Looking back now, I wonder if it was there. At that time, I thought it was there. When I turned around at the sound of the “Ping” signal indicating the arrival of the elevator, I heard the “Dooon” sound again. But this time, it came from inside the elevator.
When the elevator signaled with a “ping” sound, I flinched and turned around. I think someone was there. Maybe they were there, but I don’t remember well. Looking back now, I wonder if they were actually there, but at that moment, I thought they were. Just as I turned back at the sound of the “ping,” I heard another loud “thud.” But this time, the sound came from inside the elevator. “Thud, thud, thud, thud,” it went. I completely lost control and went into a state of madness, and then I collapsed.
I was immediately taken to the hospital. The doctor told me to forget everything I had seen and heard and prescribed medication. For about a week, all I could do was moan, “Uuuuh.” Around a week later, I had improved quite a bit, but in reality, I was deceiving my parents and the doctor. I hadn’t really gotten better. In fact, since that time, the sound of “thud” had been constantly haunting me.
Afterward, when I started thinking about going back to school, I remembered A’s existence. It was all A’s fault that I ended up like this. If that person hadn’t bullied me like that, I wouldn’t have experienced such things. I wished A, the one who caused me all this, would just disappear. Yes, I decided to rely on this “thud” sound. I genuinely believed that I had gone insane. I was seriously pleading with the source of this “sound.”
The next day, when I decided to go to school, during lunch break, I told the teacher that I wanted to leave early. The teacher agreed immediately because they knew what situation I was in. A was also absent that day. On my way home, I ran into an uncle who had been talking at school about eliminating discrimination against marginalized communities (in a lecture). I had met this uncle a few times before and had spoken to him. However, his demeanor and attitude had clearly changed after he saw me. When I first saw him, I greeted him normally, but then he looked at me as if doing a double-take and suddenly said, “Ah…” I thought, “Is A saying something to this guy too?” and my paranoid thoughts exploded. Ignoring this uncle with a perplexed attitude, I tried to walk past him.
But suddenly, the uncle started muttering something like a Buddhist chant. I was taken aback and looked back at him. Out of nowhere, he started making strange gestures and chanting the chant at me.
For the first time in my life, I punched someone unprovoked. Excuse my justification, but I was mentally unstable, so I didn’t consider whether it was right or wrong to hit someone. It was just a release of frustration. The uncle seemed surprised and cowered down while saying, “Uuh…” But I ignored him and kept kicking him. Part of my frustration came from him being A’s relative, and I shouted at him, “Hey, is your family a gathering of abnormal people? You live your life demeaning others, but when it’s done to you, does it not matter? Huh? Speak up! You should be in a place where discrimination is inflicted upon you, are you mentally ill?” I continued kicking him. However, at this point, something unexpected happened. Here is the subsequent conversation.
A’s uncle: hahahahaha
Me: !? What’s with that creepy laugh all of a sudden!
A’s uncle: Ahahaha! So, it was you. Ahahaha!
Me: ?? I seriously don’t get it. What’s so funny? (I had weakened my kicks by this point.)
A’s uncle: Hahaha, finally, we meet. Hahaha, no wonder A had a hard time with you. Hahaha. (Meaning unclear.)
Me: Huh? Are you telling me that your family was bullying me? (Around this point, I got scared and stopped kicking.)
A’s uncle: Hey, do whatever you want, but XX (my name) will suffer. Aniki (brother) can forgive, but I won’t let it go.
Me: Huh? Is your family a bunch of lunatics or something? Hey?
A’s uncle: XX-kun, just stay quiet for now. Stay quiet until uncle says it’s okay.
Me: No, I don’t understand… “Dooon.”
Suddenly, I heard a sound right next to my ear. I flinched and turned around, only to see a flat-faced, bloodied figure in front of me twitching and laughing. I went crazy again. The way this face appeared was extremely abnormal. It’s like seeing half of a human face in a TV screen where the other half is cut off by the camera, and only half is visible. In that moment, A’s uncle hit me with full force, and I lost consciousness.
When I woke up, I realized I was not in my room but in my parents’ bedroom next to the living room. It was 20:00 according to the time I saw. Light was leaking from the living room where my parents were talking with someone. As I got up and opened the bedroom door, I immediately jumped at the person I saw. It was A’s uncle and A’s aunt sitting there talking with my parents, and I attacked them instantly. My father quickly restrained me, but I think I was shouting. A’s uncle kept repeating, “Sorry, I’m really sorry,” but I couldn’t forgive him, and I struggled even in my father’s arms. Suddenly, my mother slapped my cheek and said, “Listen to what they have to say!” I felt betrayed even by my parents, and I tried to run out of the house. I managed to break free from my father’s grip and headed to my room to grab my jacket and wallet, but when I tried to put on my jacket, I felt a hand other than mine inside the sleeve, and I screamed again. Both my parents and A’s uncle and aunt rushed in, and A’s aunt started mumbling something like a Buddhist chant, while A’s uncle grabbed my clothes and started stomping on them. My father looked pale, watching the scene, and my mother stood there with her hands together, looking at me. At that moment, I truly thought I had gone mad.
After a few minutes, I started to calm down, and together with my parents, A’s uncle, and aunt, we went back to the living room. The conversation that took place in the living room and the subsequent events are still unforgettable to me. The following is the conversation (A’s uncle = Mr. B, A’s aunt = Ms. C):
B: “I’m really sorry for hitting you.”
Me: “No, it’s okay. I’m sorry too for getting frustrated.”
Father: “Huh? Did you do something?”
Me: “No, I ended up hitting B.”
B: “Ah, no, it’s because I suddenly chanted a sutra when I saw you, and it made me feel uncomfortable, right? It’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have been so sudden.”
Father: “I apologize. I didn’t hear about that.”
Me: “Huh? What are you talking about? I hit B, and B suddenly…” I remembered what happened before I fainted.
Me: “Wait? Before I fainted, I saw something…”
B: “Yeah, that’s right. I immediately noticed it when I saw you. I felt there was something there, so I chanted the sutra.”
Mother: “Are you okay? What do you mean by something?”
C: “Well, do you know why our area is called ‘Ura S District’?”
Father: “Um, it might be rude, but does it have a discriminatory meaning?”
B: “That’s your perception only. Didn’t the grandparents tell you not to go near Ura S?”
Father: “Yes, they did. But I thought it was a form of discrimination against Buraku communities. Is it different?”
B: “No, it’s like that. It is indeed discrimination, but what makes Ura S unusual is the abnormal history of discrimination that is still ongoing.”
Father: “Well, both my wife and I were born in S District, so we understand that aspect. Discrimination based on communities or settlements is similar everywhere, right? So, I understand what you mean by abnormal.”
B: “Haha, that’s right. You’re caught up in that way of thinking. Ura S isn’t just a gathering of Buraku people; it’s a gathering of people who have been living in this area since ancient times, not some foreign group.”
Father: “Yes, I see. But there’s a slight difference that I… ”
Mother: “Is it about that cursed gate or something like that?”
B: “Huh? The cursed gate. Well, it’s something like that, but aren’t there many people with the same surname as yours in Ura S?”
Mother: “Yes, there are many. It’s natural since A-kun’s and B-san’s families are relatives, but still, there are a lot, even though they are hardly seen in S District.”
B: “That area has always been said to be a path for spirits. Haven’t you heard of something like ‘Name something-something’?”
Father: “No, I don’t know the name, but I have heard of it.”
B: “Well, that area is like that, and in our family, it was said that most of us have spiritual sensitivity. Some people went crazy because of it, while others suddenly did unpredictable things, and before we knew it, it became such a settlement, a community, and we started being discriminated against.”
Mother: “But if that’s the case, Ura S District is quite large, so isn’t it strange? Is it really divided like that based only on B-san’s family lineage?”
B: “Yeah, it probably is divided like that. At first, it started with three or four families going crazy, but then it spread throughout the village. In the end, it happened in 40 or 50 cases, so the whole surrounding area seems strange, and there are fewer people nowadays who believe in such foolish stories with deep faith like in the Showa era.”
Father: “But still, will that make it a community?”
Mr. C: “Well, that’s what we’re taught in our family lineage. So we assume that the children born into our family can see spirits. We teach them that spirits exist, although not all children can see them.”
Me: “Wait, what does that have to do with my experiences and B’s story?”
Mr. B: “Hey, ○ (name), have you noticed anything strange about A lately? Apart from suddenly skipping school, was there anything else unusual?”
Me: “Not recently, I don’t know. But he suddenly started attacking me.” Mr. B: “Suddenly? Did he say anything?”
Me: “No, it was sudden and didn’t make sense. Oh, I see now. A started acting abnormally because he started seeing spirits and went crazy?”
Mr. B: “No, A is normal. But I didn’t know what to do.”
Me: “What? He’s not normal. He suddenly started attacking me, and everyone was scared and didn’t try to help me.”
Mr. B: “○, you didn’t get injured when he attacked you, right? Well, attacking is bad, so it’s not like they were deliberately not helping you. In our family, when we discover a spirit, we laugh it off. That’s the usual response, even though it might be seen as abnormal by others.”
Mother: “So, does that mean ○ had a spirit attached to him?”
Mr. C: “Yes, he still has one. And ○, do you see someone on the balcony?”
Me: “What? What do you mean? On the balcony?”
Before I faint, I saw something different from what I saw before, and it almost drove me insane.
Mr. C: “Don’t worry. I won’t let it enter here.”
Father: “Huh? What do you mean?”
Neither my father nor my mother can see it.
Mr. B: “Oh, no. It’s just that ○ has a little attachment.”
Me: “Oh, is that so? Maybe because I saw the person who jumped off…”
Mr. B: “No, that’s not it. It was probably just a coincidence. But that coincidence attracted the one on the balcony, and it shouldn’t attach to anyone else.”
Me: “Huh?”
Mr. B: “Yeah, it’s not good if it attaches. Strictly speaking, it’s not a spirit but something called ×××× in our family lineage. Don’t say it out loud. It moves quickly.” (Looking at my parents)
Mother: “××××” (I forgot what she said… something like a flower?)
Me: “What!?” Mother: “With this, will ○ be fine?”
Mr. B: “Well, it’s not exactly like that, but please don’t say that for real.” Mother: “I don’t want my son to be troubled.”
Mr. B: “Probably, if you say it, it will cause even more trouble.”
Me: “Enough, it’s fine. What’s going on anyway? Was I cursed by a spirit, and A saw that and started hitting me? But that doesn’t make sense. Would someone really do that? And is it okay to laugh while hitting? Can you drive away spirits?” (Expressing confusion and frustration)
Mr. C: “I’m sorry, maybe that’s the only way we taught him.”
Mr. B: “When performing an exorcism, you have to absolutely chase away the other person while laughing. We act like we’re confident and say something like ‘You’re nothing compared to me.’ It’s a way for the attached entity to flee when you hit the person it’s attached to. Of course, reciting sutras or performing rituals is also necessary, but he probably imitated it without understanding.” Me: “But he also kicked me.”
Mr. B: “Yeah, that was going too far. But the reason A is skipping school is because he’s scared of you, ○. Well, it’s actually because he’s scared of the entity attached to you.”
After a few minutes of discussing, Mr. C went to the parking lot to get the tools for the purification, while Mr. B kept watch to protect me. Once everything was prepared, the purification began, but it was unlike any purification I had ever seen before. It wasn’t like a shrine purification or chanting sutras while striking a wooden fish at a temple. They simply laughed while reciting the sutras. The sutras didn’t sound like typical sutras either, but more like a repetitive murmuring in a low voice. I was clapped on the hands and my head was lightly struck a few times. When it was over, Mr. B said, “It’s alright now,” and Mr. C asked, “Can you still see it?” I cautiously looked out to the balcony, but there was nothing there.
From the next day onwards, I started going to school as usual. (However, I couldn’t ride the elevator alone, so I always went with my parents…)
However, something abnormal happened to A that day. In the evening, A’s father contacted me, asking if A had come to my house because A was missing. The next day, Mr. B, A’s parents, and others started a search, but it seemed that A had left a letter at home indicating a voluntary departure, so the police didn’t conduct a search for a missing person.
The reason A’s parents called me was that my name was mentioned several times in the letter. I didn’t forgive A, even though there was a reason that he had been possessed by a spirit, so I didn’t really care.
On the third morning after A went missing, I heard a loud noise and woke up. I was already convinced that such a thing wouldn’t happen again, so I was drenched in sweat and immediately ran into my parents’ room. It took me a while to realize it was just a dream (or rather, that’s how I convinced myself).
However, on that day, it was discovered that A had jumped from a building and committed suicide, and it happened in the early morning hours. I became frightened from that night onwards and couldn’t sleep alone anymore. It was confirmed as a suicide because a suicide note was found, and there was a part in the note addressed to me: “I’m sorry, I truly messed up. I think our family line is a bit mentally unstable due to the Buraku ancestry. I don’t want to blame my own family, but hitting you was really wrong. I’m sorry.”
The following night, there was a wake, and I went with my parents, although I really didn’t want to. However, my parents said, “Just to be on the safe side, let’s do the memorial service. You wouldn’t want anything strange to happen, right?” so I reluctantly went along. The wake was also quite different. There were no usual funeral portraits, but instead, sheets of paper with A’s name written all over them were pasted all over the sides of the coffin, creating an eerie atmosphere that made it unpleasant to get close. According to Mr. B, “If we put a photograph, the face in the photo distorts. It’s something so strange that it’s unbearable to look at. That’s why we do it this way in this area. The papers with the name written on them are proof that this is A, not ××××.” (It was truly incomprehensible and too bizarre for me.)
At that time, A’s father approached me and said, “Sorry for causing trouble.” He showed me the letter A had written when he ran away and the suicide note. The part in the suicide note was as mentioned earlier, but I really didn’t want to see it at that moment.
In the letter written when A ran away from home, it said, “The guy (referring to me) was possessed by ‘it’ and ‘it’ has been watching me, trying to kill me. Uncle (referring to Mr. B) performed a purification on ‘it’ so it should be okay now, but ‘it’ seems to have come to me. Since Dad probably can’t perform a purification on ‘it’, I’m going to Mom’s house. If ‘it’ follows me on the way, I’ll go somewhere else.” A’s parents were separated, so it seems A was heading to their mother’s parents’ house but went missing. However, for some reason, the police treated it as a runaway case rather than a missing person case.
I wished I hadn’t read that. It mentions “that guy” and the meaning is unclear, so it reminded me of the surreal events leading up to that day, and I started trembling with fear. The fact that A’s suicide happened in the early morning made it even scarier, and I seriously felt that I didn’t want to be here anymore. It wasn’t me who was strange; it was these people who were abnormal, I thought. There were no sutras, just a strange single-story-like place with a coffin placed inside, covered with numerous tags bearing A’s name. And on top of that, some relatives were laughing. I’ve heard creepy stories about people who attend funerals just to cry, like in Korea or somewhere, but the funeral customs in this community went beyond being creepy and were simply abnormal. My parents, understandably scared by the situation, said, “Let’s go home now,” and quickly ended their greetings.
A few days later, Mr. B told my parents that the one who was possessing me was A’s grandmother (in other words, Mr. B’s mother), who had passed away (probably a spirit, but they didn’t say it). I didn’t care about such stories anymore and didn’t want to hear them, but I was told to listen. They mentioned that the person who jumped off the building was also from the Ura-S district and was being pursued by ××××. They didn’t know the reason for possessing me, but it might have happened when I previously visited A’s house. Those were the things I was told. So, I asked Mr. B two things that I had been afraid of. The first was the face I saw before Mr. B hit me. The second was the person who was supposed to have jumped off the building but was on the stairs, trying to run towards the body downstairs. What was that?
In response to the second question, Mr. B said, “Many deceased individuals are unaware of their own death. So, maybe they were trying to go down to retrieve something.” However, if they are interrupted, they try to cast a curse. When I interjected that I didn’t interrupt anything, Mr. B’s tone became considerably stronger, saying, “Hey, didn’t you call the elevator? The ‘ding’ sound is annoying.” I was about to jump out of my skin. My parents were also getting quite frightened. Mr. B continued in that tone, saying, “You know, you shouldn’t look, right? It’s fine for me, but it’s not fine for you, right? Don’t look at me. Hey, are you listening? Hey?” It was quite intense. My father got angry and said, “What are you talking about? What’s the point of scaring us?” Mr. B flinched and said, “Oh, I’m sorry. I just came up with that idea, so I thought I’d ask. I’m sorry.” His tone returned to normal. He repeated to himself, “Even if I say not to look, it’s not like I wanted to look. It’s fine now, right?” After that, he turned to me and said, “It’s absolutely fine now. I’m really sorry. This deceased person was also being pursued by ×××× and got angry at the one who possessed you, ○-kun. It seems like they arrived at your place.”
Regarding the first question, he said, “That’s ××××” (I thought at that moment that this name might not be Japanese or maybe it’s a dialect). A’s grandmother became ××××. However, A’s father was hesitant to perform the purification ritual because he didn’t want to erase his own mother. But since A had passed away, he seemed to have made up his mind and had the purification ritual done yesterday. I was told these things. Then, since Mr. B said he had to leave, I saw him off at the front door.
Afterward, we went to a famous shrine with my parents and received a purification ritual, then moved out of the house. We didn’t move from the S district, so it was still the same school district, but I transferred to a school in a different area. Since then, I haven’t come anywhere near the Ura S district.
Now it’s called New S district, but the local characteristics haven’t changed much. In the school where my cousin attends, which is still in the S district, they teach about discrimination without mentioning the specific area, but they mention discrimination against Akuma, buraku, and settlements. However, they have no knowledge or information about the Ura S district, and when someone mentions it, the teachers react sensitively and correct themselves to say New S district. (This is probably due to the human rights ideology and Japan Teachers’ Union specific to Kyushu.)
As for Mr. B, we have completely cut off all contact, so I have no idea what he is doing now.
My parents had no discriminatory attitudes towards the Ura S district before this incident, but after that, they developed a strong aversion and significantly restricted their interactions with people from that area. As for me, I haven’t experienced any spiritual events since then, but I still can’t ride an elevator alone. I’m ashamed to admit that I can’t even sleep alone, so my wife often ridicules me for it. During the immediate aftermath, I was so consumed by fear both mentally and physically that I would wake my parents up to accompany me to the bathroom (even though I was in high school). Just hearing that I come from the Ura S district fills me with not only discrimination but also overwhelming fear, to the point where I can’t even hold a conversation.
I apologize for the rambling and lengthy response. I’ll leave it here as a personal experience.
