【Japanese Horror】The Hundred Horror Tales — Episode 47: Something Stayed Behind | Haunted Kaidan Tales
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Episode 47 – “Something Stayed Behind| Haunted Kaidan Tales” (Full Text)
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Episode 47 Something Stayed Behind
The white smoke slowly drifted upward toward the ceiling.
For a while,
no one spoke.
The air in the room still carried the weight of the story they had just heard.
Miwa let out a small sigh.
“…That leaves a bad feeling behind.”
“The part about it turning black makes it worse.”
Shūji shrugged.
“Well, stories like that usually get exaggerated afterward.”
“No one really knows what actually happened.”
Even as he said it,
there was something hesitant in his voice.
Aoi pulled her knees in a little.
“…But still.”
“Isn’t it scary when someone just suddenly disappears?”
No one answered her right away.
Only Sōma quietly stared at the candle flame.
“…Yeah.”
“What’s creepiest is when nothing ever gets explained.”
He muttered it softly,
almost to himself.
Silence followed again.
Then Aoi quietly took a breath.
“…Hey.”
“This one happened to me.”
Miwa looked at her.
“To you, Aoi-chan?”
Aoi gave a small nod.
“Yeah.”
“It’s kind of a weird story…”
Shūji leaned forward slightly.
“Oh? A real experience?”
Aoi lowered her eyes for a moment,
then slowly looked back up.
“…Do you know Kokkuri-san?”
Shūji gave a light laugh.
“Of course.”
“We used to do that all the time in elementary school.”
Miwa smiled awkwardly.
“The thing adults always tell you not to play.”
Aoi nodded again.
“Yeah… that.”
“We ended up doing it.”
As she said that,
her fingers tightened slightly.
Then she quietly began her story.
⸻
That day,
I was staying over at a friend’s house.
It was the three of us—
me and two close friends from my class.
We had dinner,
took baths,
played games,
ate snacks…
At first,
it was just a normal sleepover.
But eventually,
we started running out of things to do.
We dimmed the room lights a little,
sat together on the futons,
and just talked lazily about random things.
That was when one of them suddenly said:
“Hey… wanna try Kokkuri-san?”
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Just a little.
A moment ago we had all been laughing,
but suddenly,
everyone went quiet.
“Ehh… let’s not.”
That’s what we said.
But none of us seriously tried to stop it.
Instead—
“How do you even do it?”
“You need paper, right?”
Before long,
we were already setting it up.
I was scared too.
But there were three of us,
so I figured it would probably be fine.
We spread paper out on the desk.
Drew a torii gate.
Wrote “YES” and “NO.”
Lined up the hiragana characters.
Then placed a ten-yen coin in the center.
The three of us gently placed our fingers on it.
Trying to laugh it off,
one of us whispered quietly:
“…Kokkuri-san, Kokkuri-san.”
The moment she said it—
the room suddenly became silent.
It felt like every sound around us had disappeared.
Only the ticking of the clock sounded strangely loud.
Nothing happened at first.
“…See? Nothing’s happening.”
One of us said that,
and the tension started to ease—
then—
…slide.
The ten-yen coin moved slightly.
Just a tiny bit.
But—
it didn’t feel like someone pushed it.
Not at all.
It moved slowly,
like something was pulling it from somewhere else.
The moment that happened,
none of us could speak anymore.
We just sat there,
our fingers still touching the coin,
staring at it as it moved.
That day,
I was staying over at a friend’s house.
It was the three of us—
me and two close friends from my class.
We had dinner,
took baths,
played games,
ate snacks…
At first,
it was just a normal sleepover.
But eventually,
we started running out of things to do.
We dimmed the room lights a little,
sat together on the futons,
and lazily talked about random things.
That was when one of them suddenly said:
“Hey… wanna try Kokkuri-san?”
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Just a little.
A moment ago we had all been laughing,
but suddenly,
everyone went quiet.
“Ehh… let’s not.”
That’s what we said.
But none of us seriously tried to stop it.
Instead—
“How do you even do it?”
“You need paper, right?”
Before long,
we were already preparing for it.
I was scared too.
But there were three of us,
so I figured it would probably be fine.
We spread paper out on the desk.
Drew a torii gate.
Wrote “YES” and “NO.”
Lined up the hiragana characters.
Then placed a ten-yen coin in the center.
The three of us gently placed our fingers on it.
Trying to laugh it off,
one of us whispered quietly:
“…Kokkuri-san, Kokkuri-san.”
The moment she said it—
the room suddenly became silent.
It felt like every sound around us had disappeared.
Only the ticking of the clock sounded strangely loud.
Nothing happened at first.
“…See? Nothing’s happening.”
One of us said that,
and the tension started to ease—
then—
…slide.
The ten-yen coin moved slightly.
Just a tiny bit.
But—
it didn’t feel like someone pushed it.
Not at all.
It moved slowly,
like something was pulling it from somewhere else.
The moment that happened,
none of us could speak anymore.
We just sat there,
our fingers still touching the coin,
staring at it as it moved.
After a while,
one of us quietly whispered:
“…Is it really here?”
Even her voice was shaking a little.
Another girl forced an awkward laugh.
“Someone’s pushing it, right?”
“Quit messing around.”
“I’m not pushing it.”
“Me neither.”
We were talking,
but nobody was really smiling anymore.
Even so,
we nervously decided to ask it questions.
“…Are you really Kokkuri-san?”
The coin slowly moved.
Beneath our fingertips,
it felt like something was faintly pulling it.
Then it stopped—
on “YES.”
The three of us looked at each other.
But nobody spoke.
Then another girl asked:
“…Is someone moving it?”
After a short pause,
the coin moved again.
This time—
“NO.”
That answer somehow made the atmosphere even heavier.
It no longer felt like a joke.
Still,
we kept asking questions little by little.
Simple things.
The date.
Our names.
Everything was correct.
“…That’s amazing…”
One of us whispered.
“It’s getting everything right…”
But even that voice didn’t sound excited anymore.
The coin’s movements
were becoming smoother.
More natural.
More certain.
Then—
knock knock.
A sudden sound came from the door.
All three of us jumped.
“Are you girls still awake?”
It was our friend’s mother on the other side of the door.
Instantly,
it felt like we had been dragged back to reality.
“…Crap.”
“We’re gonna get yelled at if she sees this.”
We whispered frantically to each other,
looking around in panic.
Deep down,
we knew we were supposed to end it properly.
But none of us could remember the procedure anymore.
“L-let’s just stop.”
One of us said that—
and at the same moment,
all three of us pulled our fingers away.
Right then—
the coin seemed to move slightly.
Just a little.
But—
none of us said anything about it.
Instead,
we pretended nothing had happened.
We crumpled the paper up,
hurriedly shoved it under the desk,
and tried to hide everything.
“We’re going to sleep now!”
We somehow managed to fool her.
Then we crawled into our futons
as if nothing had happened.
The lights went out.
The room became dark.
For a while,
none of us said a word.
But even with my eyes closed,
I couldn’t stop thinking about
the way the coin had moved.
Had nobody really pushed it?
Or—
the moment I tried to think about it too much,
a sudden wave of fear hit me.
So inside my blanket,
I squeezed my eyes tightly shut.
The next day,
even after we got to school,
none of us really talked about what happened.
When we saw each other that morning,
we greeted each other normally,
went to class,
talked during breaks like usual—
everything looked the same.
But something felt slightly off.
All of us were thinking about the night before,
yet none of us wanted to say it out loud.
That was the feeling between us.
At lunch break,
the three of us gathered in the corner of the classroom.
Then one of them quietly said:
“…About yesterday.”
The moment she said it,
the atmosphere froze.
“We didn’t end it properly, did we?”
Another girl nodded.
“I heard you’re not supposed to stop halfway through.”
“…Like something stays behind.”
I couldn’t say anything.
I didn’t want to think about it again—
but I remembered it clearly anyway.
The moment we pulled our fingers away.
The way the coin seemed to move slightly afterward.
“…So what do we do?”
Someone asked.
After a short silence—
“…Let’s do it again.”
All three of us looked up at once.
“If we finish it properly this time,
it’ll be okay, right?”
Her voice sounded like she was trying to convince herself.
I couldn’t argue.
I was scared.
But somehow,
leaving it unfinished felt even worse.
⸻
After school,
almost nobody was left in the classroom.
The curtains swayed slightly,
and weak evening light shone through the windows.
The three of us sat together again,
just like the night before.
Nobody said anything unnecessary.
It felt like we were quietly continuing
from where we had left off yesterday.
We spread the paper out.
Drew the torii gate.
Wrote “YES” and “NO.”
Lined up the hiragana characters.
Placed the ten-yen coin in the center.
Then the three of us gently placed our fingers on it.
That was when I noticed it.
Something felt wrong.
The feeling beneath my fingertips
was heavier than yesterday.
But none of us mentioned it.
We tried to tell ourselves it was just our imagination.
Then someone whispered quietly:
“…Kokkuri-san, Kokkuri-san.”
The instant she said it,
the classroom suddenly felt cold.
The coin moved immediately.
Not slowly like yesterday.
It moved sharply,
as if something was forcefully pulling it.
“W-wait.”
“What is that?”
“Someone’s pushing it!”
All three of us shouted at once.
But—
“I’m not!”
“Me neither!”
We denied it at the same time.
The coin didn’t stop.
It kept sliding across the letters.
Even while we were all panicking,
it moved on its own,
almost as if it was responding to our voices.
“Is someone there?”
“Stop it, this isn’t funny!”
“What even is this?!”
Then—
the coin suddenly stopped.
And started moving again.
Slowly.
One letter at a time.
—A
All three of us fell silent.
—KI
The noise in the room disappeared completely.
—RA
The coin stopped there.
“…What is that?”
“Who’s Akira?”
None of us recognized the name.
At that moment,
the feeling beneath our fingers changed.
Not just “heavy” anymore.
It felt like someone else
was clearly pressing against the coin.
But none of us were moving it.
“…Hey.”
“This is weird.”
One of the girls spoke in a trembling voice.
“Doesn’t it feel heavier now?”
“Yeah…”
“…Like there’s more pressure.”
“It feels like someone else is here.”
The moment those words were spoken,
all three of us went quiet.
Like we had just said
something we weren’t supposed to say.
“…Hey,”
I whispered softly.
“Don’t the fingers feel weird?”
“There’s only three of us…”
“…But it doesn’t feel right.”
Right then—
the coin moved again.
Nobody had asked a question.
It simply began sliding across the letters on its own.
Slowly.
Clearly.
—YO
Someone gasped.
—NI
The pressure beneath our fingers grew stronger.
—N
It felt like we couldn’t pull our fingers away.
—I
Then the coin stopped.
The classroom felt unnaturally silent.
The sounds outside,
voices from far away—
everything felt distant.
“…What was that?”
Someone’s trembling voice broke the silence.
Nobody answered.
But we understood.
This wasn’t one of us moving the coin.
There was someone else there.
And—
it was still there with us.
The fingers wouldn’t come off.
Even though we were trying to pull away,
it felt like they were stuck to the coin.
“Stop…”
“I can’t move them… I can’t…!”
All three of us
were pulling with real force.
But only our fingers
wouldn’t separate from the ten-yen coin.
It felt like something was pressing down on them,
a slow, steady pressure.
This was different from the “heaviness” before.
This felt intentional.
Like something with a will of its own.
Then the coin moved again.
Slowly.
Without hesitation.
—I
—AM
It stopped there.
None of us could speak.
Even breathing
felt terrifying.
“…Please…”
One of us whispered in a trembling voice.
“Please go home.”
Then another girl spoke.
“We’ll finish it properly this time.”
“So please…”
“Please go away…”
The three of us
repeated it over and over.
Gradually,
our voices began to overlap.
“Please go home.”
“Please go home.”
“Please go home.”
For a while,
the coin didn’t move.
It simply sat there
beneath our fingers.
Almost like it was thinking.
The silence felt unbearably long.
Then—
suddenly,
the atmosphere changed.
The heavy pressure that had filled the room
quietly disappeared.
The feeling beneath our fingers
returned to normal.
“…Ah…”
One of us let out a tiny breath.
The coin slowly began to move again.
But this time,
it felt different.
Calm.
Quiet.
—YE
—S
It stopped there.
The three of us looked at each other.
Then,
with trembling fingers,
we followed the final procedure.
“…Kokkuri-san, please return.”
The coin slowly slid
toward the torii gate.
And stopped there.
Our fingers
slipped free instantly.
The horrible sensation from before
vanished like it had never existed.
None of us could move right away.
We just sat there silently,
trying to steady our breathing.
After that,
none of us spoke for a while.
The paper on the desk,
the ten-yen coin—
we left everything exactly where it was,
and simply sat there in silence.
“…We’re okay now, right?”
One of us asked quietly.
Nobody answered right away.
But then—
“We finished it properly this time.”
“I heard you’re not supposed to just throw it away.”
After thinking for a moment,
one of the girls said:
“…Let’s burn it.”
The rest of us silently nodded.
⸻
On the way home,
we went beneath a bridge
where hardly anyone ever passed by.
It was evening already,
and the sky was beginning to darken.
Under the concrete bridge,
the air felt cold,
and even small sounds echoed faintly.
After making sure nobody was around,
we crouched down together.
We spread the paper out.
The moment the lighter touched it,
a small flame slowly began consuming the edges.
Crackle.
The paper blackened as it burned.
The smell of scorching paper
quietly drifted through the air.
None of us spoke.
We simply watched it burn.
Only after it had completely turned to ash
did we finally stand up.
“…We’re okay now, right?”
Again,
nobody gave a clear answer.
But none of us said anything else either.
We just went our separate ways.
After Aoi finished speaking,
nobody spoke for a while.
The candle flame flickered softly.
“…Well,”
Aoi finally said quietly.
“Kokkuri-san is basically a ritual.”
“And people always say
you’re not supposed to stop halfway through.”
She lowered her eyes toward the candle flame.
“So maybe…”
“…we should make sure
to finish the Hundred Tales properly too.”
She gave a faint,
almost joking smile.
But nobody laughed.
Then—
suddenly,
the air shifted.
Sōma sniffed lightly.
“…Do you smell something?”
Shūji slowly lifted his head.
“…Yeah.”
Miwa quietly looked around the room.
“This smell…”
A brief silence followed.
Then Sōma spoke in a low voice.
“…Doesn’t it smell like incense?”
The moment he said it,
everyone fell silent.
It was a smell
that shouldn’t have existed in that room.
A moment ago,
nobody had noticed anything.
But now—
it was unmistakable.
So strong it felt impossible to escape.
The candle flame trembled softly.
Nobody moved.
Only that smell remained in the room.
Aoi quietly stared at the flame,
slowly took a breath,
and gently blew it out.
—fuu.
The flame flickered,
then quietly disappeared.
White smoke slowly drifted upward toward the ceiling.
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The Hundred Horror Tales is an original Japanese horror anthology inspired by the tradition of Hyaku Monogatari.
Five storytellers gather around flickering candles to share chilling tales—urban legends, ghost stories, folklore, daily fears, and real encounters.
Can you endure until the last flame goes out?
Follow for more:
• Twitter: @KaidanTales
• YouTube: @HK_Tales
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