Same place, different moon.
Dòu Táng looked up at the pale light outside the window. He had searched every corner of the school, yet there was still no sign of Lu Zizhen.
He stood on the third floor of the south wing. The whole campus was silent—no voices, no footsteps, not even the hum of the city beyond the walls.
It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. Once, the two of them had explored an abandoned hospital deep in the Fukushima mountains and encountered a wraith that could weave ghost mazes. They had entered a doorway seconds apart—only for one of them to vanish from the other's world entirely.
That night had ended in a Candy Man rampage that left half the hospital in ruins. But this was a functioning school. Leveling it wasn't an option.
First, the rooftop. Find the skull.
Elsewhere—under another moon.
Lu Zizhen moved toward the cafeteria. Here, the moon hung slightly higher, its glow colder, tinged with blue.
Separated from Dòu Táng, she had already dropped her playful front. What remained was her natural self—cool, sharp, and proud.
Sword hilts in both hands, she studied the building before her.
She wasn't heading straight for the rooftop. No—she wanted to see what kind of nightmare this wraith could conjure.
The cafeteria was small and perfectly square. With fewer students in recent years, most brought their own lunches; the space now served mainly teachers. Thirty tables at most.
Rows of vending machines and open kitchens lined the back wall, their fluorescent lights still burning bright.
A figure stood at the far end, back turned, stirring something over a stove. Lu Zizhen smirked. "Oh? So that's how we're doing this."
She cupped her hands and called out, "Hey, boss! Got any fish balls and noodles?" The figure froze mid-motion.
Fish balls and noodles? What the hell…?
He turned.
To her surprise, it wasn't a grotesque specter but a middle-aged man in a naval uniform—wearing a blood-red apron.
The atmosphere flipped instantly, absurdly, to retro Shōwa.
Lu Zizhen slouched into a chair, crossing one leg over the other. "Boss, what about curry fish balls then?"
The uniformed spirit stared at her, stiff and silent, like a mannequin left standing too long.
"Boring," she sighed. "You seem to have a brain in there. Don't tell me you're not the one who trapped me here?"
The spirit slowly shook his head. There was no malice about him—only the heavy fatigue of someone who had seen too much.
Not that she cared.
Clicking her tongue, Lu Zizhen rose and leveled a sword hilt at him. "You're a jibakurei, right? Bound spirit tied to old grounds? You don't hurt people, you don't move on—boring. Want me to send you off?"
The spirit hesitated before answering, voice deep and formal.
"I was once of the Naval Academy. I perished in the twentieth year of Shōwa. Forgive me, but I still have duty to fulfill. I must decline your kindness."
Lu Zizhen arched a brow. "Oh? The twentieth year—that's the surrender year, isn't it? How'd you die?"
She grinned. "And wait—Corporal Yamashita? Very spirited of you."
The ghost flinched. He'd been ready to answer the first question, but the second completely derailed him.
"I died in the Great Tokyo Air Raid," he said stiffly. "But… how did you know my name and rank?"
Lu Zizhen blinked. "You mean you really are Corporal Yamashita?!"
Before he could respond, she waved him off. "Never mind that. It's Ghost Month—I get why I'd stumble into a ghost maze. But if you're not the one who set it up, then who is?"
The ghost turned off the stove. The gesture was oddly human—probably just an echo of the real world—but it made the illusion feel solid.
He stepped toward the exit, pausing when he noticed her blades. "Are you… an onmyōji?" "Sort of," she said, twirling her tassel. "A rough one. I prefer physical exorcism."
"Then… are you here to suppress the spirits haunting this ground?"
"Nope. Just here for fun." She gave a casual shrug. "Didn't expect the school to be this haunted, though."
She glanced toward the window—and froze.
The teaching building outside had transformed: walls cracked, vines crawling across the facade, every window flickering with ghost-light. The entire structure pulsed as if alive.
"Seriously?" she muttered. "Even for Bon Festival, this is overkill. Looks like Hyakki Yagyō threw a block party. What the hell happened to this place?"
Corporal Yamashita's tone grew grave. "Miss, heed my warning. Since the Great Tokyo Air Raid, this ground has swarmed with the dead. During Obon, the horrors of that night replay again and again."
Lu Zizhen clicked her tongue. "Do I look like one of those horror-movie idiots who die because they ignore warnings?"
"Even if I jumped off the roof, I still wouldn't listen to a ghost. You think I'm dumb enough to pick Jason's lake or Sadako's well for a date spot? Just tell me the truth already."
Her mouth was merciless.
The ghost's expression darkened. Slowly, he removed his apron and stepped from behind the counter.
Tall. Immaculate navy uniform. Bandaged face and hands. A saber gleaming at his hip. His posture was ramrod-straight, eyes glinting coldly through the gauze.
Lu Zizhen grinned and rose. "Oh? You mad now? Gonna fight me?"
"The truth of this place must remain buried with the air raid," the ghost said, voice hardening as he drew his sword. Black mist rolled outward, the air reeking of ash and burning.
"If you refuse to leave—" he lifted the blade— "—then I must send you on."
Lu Zizhen burst out laughing.
Without Dòu Táng around, she was pure chaos.
Her twin swords flashed from their sheaths, steel singing through the air. "With you? A ghost trying to send me to the afterlife?"
◇ I'll be dropping one bonus chapters for every 10 reviews. comment
◇ One bonus chapter will be released for every 100 Power Stones.
◇ You can read 50 chapter ahead on P@treon if you're interested: patreon.com/FicBridge