At exactly 2 a.m., Kenta’s late-night radio show, Kaidan Night, began airing from the small local radio station. Typically, the show featured listener-submitted ghost stories read in a lighthearted manner, interspersed with requested songs. But tonight felt… different.
“Our next story comes from a listener named Kinoshita,” Kenta announced, flipping through his script. Just then, a low, rasping female voice emerged through his headphones.
“This is something I personally experienced…”
The voice, clearly from an audio file attached to the email submission, had an unsettling chill to it. The story described a series of mysterious disappearances linked to an abandoned inn in the area.
“Guests who stayed there would see ‘another self’ in the mirror at midnight. And when they tried to run… they would be pulled into the mirror.”
As the story concluded, Kenta felt an eerie sense of déjà vu. The inn’s name, Kikunoya Ryokan, struck a nerve—it was the very place where his childhood friend had vanished years ago.
“It can’t be…”
When the broadcast ended, Kenta immediately replied to the sender’s email, but every attempt bounced back with an error message. Driven by a growing sense of unease, he decided to investigate his friend’s disappearance anew. His research led him to uncover an unsettling detail: the Kikunoya Ryokan once housed a master mirror craftsman who had died in a tragic accident. However, rumors persisted that one of his “special mirrors” still remained inside the decaying building.
Determined to find answers, Kenta gathered a few friends and ventured to the abandoned inn. The building was in ruins—its walls crumbling and furniture covered in layers of dust. Yet, the mirrors throughout the inn remained intact, eerily untouched by time.
Kenta’s breath caught in his throat as he approached the largest mirror in the main hall. Staring back at him, beyond his own reflection, was a shadow that moved independently—his exact likeness. The figure inside the mirror extended a trembling hand toward him, its lips forming soundless pleas.
“Help me…”
It was unmistakably his childhood friend’s voice.
Fighting his fear, Kenta reached out to the mirror. The moment his fingers touched the cold glass, everything plunged into darkness.
When he opened his eyes again, he was back in the radio station’s dimly lit booth. The clock still read 2 a.m., as if no time had passed at all. On the desk in front of him sat an old, weathered mirror—the very same mirror from the inn. Yet, his friend’s reflection was nowhere to be seen.
Kenta sat in stunned silence, staring at the mirror, his mind racing with unanswered questions. As the station’s theme music played softly in the background, he realized that, no matter what had happened, he still had a show to run.
And so, as another night descended, Kenta prepared himself to listen to the voices of his unseen listeners once again—knowing that some stories were closer to reality than he ever imagined.
