Episode 1: “The Price of a Wish” “A mysterious radio program that can only be received at exactly 2:46 AM. It broadcasts ghost stories and personal experiences from listeners, but the same supernatural phenomena begin happening to those who hear these tales. This is ‛Zero Zero You Are Done – The Dark Frequency.'” “Now, let’s listen to today’s broadcast.” Click… Static… “2:46 AM. Frequency 0.0. We now bring you ‘The Dark Frequency.’ Tonight’s submission comes from Kobayashi Yuta, residing in Date City, Fukushima Prefecture. The title is ‘The House of the Zashiki-warashi.’ Please listen.” ●●● “Hello, my name is Kobayashi Yuta. I’m in fifth grade. Recently, I heard about zashiki-warashi from a classmate. A zashiki-warashi is apparently a type of yokai—a supernatural being that lives in houses and brings good fortune to the family. But what interested me most was that zashiki-warashi remain children forever and can play for all eternity. I don’t hate studying, but I’m a little scared of becoming an adult. My father always comes home tired from work. My mother recently started a part-time job and works late into the night. Adults seem to work all the time with little time for fun. So I thought how wonderful it would be if I could stay a child forever like a zashiki-warashi. Last Sunday, I went to my grandparents’ house in Date City, Fukushima Prefecture. Their house is an old Japanese-style building, apparently over 100 years old. The roof is thatched, and the floorboards creak when you walk down the hallways. Both my grandparents are over 80, but they’re healthy. ‘Yuta, city kids probably don’t know about countryside games, so you might be bored, but we’ll do our best to entertain you,’ Grandfather said. But actually, I was excited. I thought there might be yokai living in such an old house. Especially a zashiki-warashi. That afternoon, while my grandparents were napping, I decided to secretly explore the house. First, I looked around the unused guest rooms. Next, I peeked into storage rooms and sheds. Finally, I decided to climb up to the attic using a ladder. The attic was dark and dusty. Thin beams of light streamed in through a small window. I had brought a flashlight, but it wasn’t very helpful. The attic was filled with old chests, paulownia boxes, and ancient farming tools. ‘I wonder if there’s a zashiki-warashi here,’ I said in a small voice. Then, from behind a chest, I heard faint laughter. Along with the sound of small bells – Tinkle Tinkle. ‘Is someone there?’ I asked. ‘Here, over here,’ a small voice answered. From behind the chest, a child appeared. He looked about my age, but was wearing a kimono. His short hair was cut in a round bob, and he had a red bell attached to the top of his head. He was a little smaller than me, with translucent white skin and an otherworldly atmosphere. ‘I’m Makoto. And you?’ the child asked. ‘Yuta. Kobayashi Yuta,’ I answered. ‘Are you… a zashiki-warashi?’ Makoto laughed. ‘Some people call me that. I live in this house. I’ve been here for a very, very long time.’ Excited, I bombarded Makoto with questions. How old was he? What did he eat? What games did he like? Makoto kindly answered all my questions. He didn’t remember his real age, but had been in this house for at least 100 years. Sometimes he would take a little from the offerings the family placed at the household shrine, but basically he didn’t need to eat. And his favorite game was hide-and-seek. ‘Do you go to school, Yuta?’ Makoto asked. ‘Yeah, I’m in fifth grade,’ I answered. ‘Is school fun?’ ‘Well, sort of. But there’s a lot of homework, and tests make me nervous…’ ‘I’ve never been to school,’ Makoto said somewhat sadly. ‘But I’m not lonely staying in this house all the time. Because the people here take good care of me.’ ‘Being a zashiki-warashi sounds nice. Staying a child forever and playing all the time,’ I said enviously. ‘Becoming an adult seems scary. Studying, working, getting tired… it doesn’t look fun.’ Makoto stared at me silently. His eyes were very deep, as if hundreds of years of time were contained within them. ‘Do you really want to become like me?’ Makoto suddenly asked. ‘Even if you can’t leave this house? Even if you’re separated from your family?’ ‘Huh? But you have family. The people in this house.’ ‘…’ Makoto looked out the window silently. ‘Yes. But they can’t see me. They can sense me, but they can’t see me. They can’t talk to me either.’ ‘Isn’t that… lonely?’ ‘Sometimes, very lonely,’ Makoto answered honestly. ‘But that’s my fate.’ We played together for hours after that. Hide-and-seek, juggling with bean bags – he taught me many old-fashioned games. Makoto was a wonderful playmate. In the evening, I heard Grandmother calling for me. ‘I have to go now,’ I said. ‘Can we play again tomorrow?’ ‘Of course,’ Makoto answered with a smile. ‘But let me ask you one more thing. Do you really want to be like me? To stay a child forever without becoming an adult, and keep playing?’ I thought about it. Makoto seemed lonely, but he also appeared free, without any of the worries adults have. ‘Yes, really. Being a zashiki-warashi sounds wonderful. Staying a child forever and playing every day… I’m envious,’ I said from my heart. Makoto’s expression changed. His eyes widened, and his mouth slowly formed a smile. Strangely, that smile looked a little frightening. ‘Your wish will come true, Yuta,’ Makoto said, placing both hands on my cheeks. At that moment, I felt my body becoming light. Like a balloon floating upward. And a strange sensation of becoming transparent. When I came to, I was looking down at Makoto. No, not Makoto. There stood myself. Makoto in my form. ‘Huh? What’s this?’ I was confused. My voice sounded like wind blowing. ‘I granted your wish, Yuta,’ the Makoto in my form said. ‘You became a zashiki-warashi. And I… became you.’ ‘No way! Turn me back!’ I shouted. But my voice was faint as wind, seeming to reach no one. ‘Yuta! Dinner!’ I heard Grandmother’s voice. ‘Coming!’ the Makoto in my form answered cheerfully, climbing down the ladder. I frantically tried to follow Makoto, but strangely my body wouldn’t move as I wanted. I felt light as air, but simultaneously bound by something. When I tried to leave the attic, it felt like hitting an invisible wall. ‘Makoto! Come back!’ I shouted, but no one could hear me. That night, I spent in terror and confusion. I wandered the house, watching my grandparents and the ‘Yuta’ that Makoto had become. My grandparents didn’t seem to notice anything, talking normally with Makoto and eating dinner together. Makoto was perfectly imitating me. The next morning, my father and mother came to pick me up by car. ‘Did you have a good stay, Yuta? Was it fun?’ Mother asked Makoto. ‘Yeah, it was really fun!’ Makoto answered brightly. ‘I want to come back soon!’ ‘Well, maybe next time during summer vacation,’ Father said. I panicked. Was Makoto going to return to our house in Chiba as me? Would I be left behind in this house? ‘Dad! Mom! It’s me, Yuta!’ I screamed desperately, but no one could hear my voice. Makoto turned around and looked in my direction. He seemed to be the only one who could see me, invisible to everyone else. He grinned and waved his hand slightly. Then he got in the car with my parents. ‘Goodbye, Grandpa, Grandma. I’ll come again,’ Makoto said. The car started moving and gradually grew distant. I tried to chase after it, but couldn’t take a single step outside the house grounds. As if bound by invisible chains. And then I understood. I had really become a zashiki-warashi. Forever bound to this old house, staying a child forever… but without family, without friends, invisible to everyone, unable to talk to anyone. Several days have passed since then. My grandparents can’t see me. Sometimes they say, ‘There’s a cold breeze blowing,’ or tilt their heads saying, ‘I feel like someone’s here.’ I’ve tried talking to them many times, but my voice doesn’t reach them. When I try to move objects, my fingers are transparent and can’t touch anything. I’ve become increasingly lonely. Playing isn’t fun anymore. I just wander alone through this old house. Staying a child forever… it was a curse. A curse of eternal solitude. Now I’m writing this submission. How? That’s a secret. But I want to tell everyone something. Don’t envy other people’s lives. Cherish your own life. And if you meet a strange child in an old house… never say you’re ‘envious.’ Those words might change your fate. I’m still alone in this old house. I look out the window and watch people walking freely. Sometimes I see small children playing in the yard. But they can’t see me. I’ve become someone who will never be noticed by anyone, forever. And the most frightening thing is… I’m no longer human. I’ve become a zashiki-warashi. Forever a child, forever able to play… but it is like a curse. I can’t go back anymore. Not to my father and mother, not to my friends, not to school… ‘If there’s anyone listening to this message… please help me. But that’s probably impossible. After all, I have no choice but to stay here forever…’ ●●● Click… “That was the submission from Kobayashi Yuta of Date City, Fukushima Prefecture. If you have any thoughts or your own ghost story experiences, please contact our program. We’ll meet again in the next broadcast. Goodbye.” Static… ●●● Shinjuku, Tokyo. Takeuchi Kenichi removed his earphones. 2:52 AM. He couldn’t help feeling a chill run down his spine. “Zashiki-warashi… huh,” he murmured. Kenichi was a 32-year-old office worker. He worked in the sales department of a major IT company, but recently stress had been building due to work pressure. Quotas for promotion, strict instructions from his boss, competition with colleagues… every day was like a battlefield. “I want a break…” he sighed, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow he’d have to wake up early again, ride the packed train, attend long meetings, visit clients… just thinking about it exhausted him. Having listened to the strange radio program, Kenichi fell asleep with his head still unsettled. The next morning, on his way to Shinjuku Station as usual, he noticed a homeless man in an alley near the station. Sitting on cardboard, wearing a tattered coat, gazing absently at the sky. Normally he would pass by without paying attention, but today his feet stopped for some reason. The man appeared to be in his 50s, with unkempt hair and a white beard on his chin. However, his expression was strangely peaceful. “He looks… free somehow,” Kenichi thought. “He doesn’t have to go to work. Doesn’t have to pay taxes. Not bound by anyone…” The man suddenly looked up, and their eyes met. “What are you staring at?” the man said in a low voice. Kenichi started to apologize in panic, but something held him back. The ghost story he heard last night came to mind. Like the boy who said he wanted to become a zashiki-warashi, if he said he wanted to become homeless… no, that couldn’t be. “Sorry, I wasn’t making fun of you or anything,” Kenichi said. “Actually… I was just thinking I envied you.” “Envied?” The man frowned. “Yes… you’re free, aren’t you? You don’t have to go to work, don’t get yelled at by bosses. Don’t have to worry about taxes. Your time is your own. I go back and forth between company and home every day, with hardly any time for myself.” The man stared intently at Kenichi. His eyes were deep, like a bottomless well. “Do you really… want to become like me?” the man asked slowly. That question was the same one Makoto had asked the boy in last night’s ghost story. Kenichi suddenly felt anxious. “No, that’s not what I meant…” “Even if you lose your home, are separated from your family, and abandoned by society?” the man continued. Kenichi was at a loss for words. “No, I didn’t mean it like that…” “But you said you envied me,” the man said, slowly standing up. He was taller than Kenichi had expected. “Those words have power…” The man placed his hand on Kenichi’s shoulder. The hand was cold and heavy. Kenichi suddenly felt a strange sensation of his body becoming light. “I wanted to become like you,” the man smiled. That expression looked terrifying to Kenichi. Kenichi hurriedly brushed off the man’s hand and quickly left the scene. His heart was pounding violently, and cold sweat ran down his back. “Ridiculous, that was just a coincidence…” he told himself. However, Kenichi felt unsettled all day. During meetings and business negotiations with clients, he couldn’t get the homeless man’s eyes out of his head. The words “Do you really want to become like me?” echoed in his ears like an echo. After finishing work, Kenichi decided to go home earlier than usual. He took the train and arrived at the station near his apartment, feeling unusually tired. His body felt heavy, and walking was difficult. “Maybe I’m catching a cold…” he thought as he began walking toward his apartment. However, when he arrived at his apartment building, Kenichi noticed something strange. He couldn’t find his security card. He searched his pockets and bag but couldn’t find it. “Damn, did I leave it at the office…” Having no choice, he decided to use the intercom. He pressed his room number and waited for someone to respond. His wife Miki should be home. “Yes, who is this?” a woman’s voice came through the intercom. Miki’s voice. “It’s me, Kenichi. I think I forgot my card.” There was a brief silence. “…Excuse me, who is this?” Miki’s voice turned cold. “Huh? Miki, stop joking. It’s me, Ta-ke-u-chi Ken-i-chi.” “My husband is in the room right now…” Miki’s voice was filled with confusion. Kenichi felt dizzy. That couldn’t be. He was definitely Takeuchi Kenichi. “Miki, what are you saying? I’m here!” At that moment, the entrance door of the apartment building opened, and a man came out. The suited man was… Kenichi himself. “What’s wrong?” the man—another Kenichi—asked. Kenichi was speechless. The person in front of him was definitely himself. The same face, same hairstyle, same suit… “Wh-who are you…” “Who are you?” the other Kenichi asked coldly. “Why are you talking to my wife?” “This is no joke! I’m Kenichi! Who are you?” The other Kenichi took out his cell phone. “I’m calling the police.” At that moment, Kenichi looked down at himself. And he froze in terror. He was wearing a tattered coat. His hands were dirty, his nails overgrown. “No way… no way!” He frantically looked at his reflection in a nearby glass window. What was reflected there was the face of the homeless man he had seen in the morning. “I’m calling the police,” the other Kenichi—the homeless man who had borrowed his appearance—said. “Please leave here.” “Wait! Please! I’m Takeuchi Kenichi!” he shouted, but the other Kenichi said coldly. “Aren’t you named Saito? A homeless person I often see near the station?” “No! I’m Kenichi!” However, seeing a security guard approaching, Kenichi fled in terror. His heart was pounding violently, and he was breathing heavily. He couldn’t understand what was happening. He sat down on a park bench and touched his face with trembling hands. It was definitely not his face. The skin was rough, cheeks sunken, beard grown out. “Why… how…” Then the morning’s events came back vividly. That homeless man. The question “Do you really want to become like me?” And the words he himself had said: “I was just thinking I envied you.” Kenichi remembered the radio ghost story he had heard last night. The story of the boy who became a zashiki-warashi. The warning that the word “envious” could change one’s fate. “No way…” He checked his appearance once more, looking at himself reflected in a nearby shop window. There was definitely the homeless man’s figure. And behind that, he felt like someone was laughing. “2:46 AM… frequency 0.0…” the wind seemed to whisper those words. Kenichi spent the night on the park bench. His wallet, cell phone, and ID were all gone. He was no longer Takeuchi Kenichi. No one would believe him. Not his wife, not his coworkers, not his friends. The next morning, he headed to Shinjuku Station again. There, he witnessed an astonishing sight. His suited self—his former self—was walking confidently. With a confident expression, carrying an expensive-looking bag, clearly successful. Next to him walked a beautiful woman—Miki. The two were laughing happily. Kenichi wanted to scream. This was unfair, this was wrong. But the words stuck in his throat. No one would believe his story. He had become a homeless man named “Saito.” He had lost his past life, his identity, everything. And he realized he had no choice but to accept his fate. The word “envious” had changed his destiny. Now Kenichi sits in the alley near the station. People see him only as just another homeless man. No one knows who he really is. He’s cut off from society, forced to live in solitude. What he fears most is someone else looking at him and thinking “envious.” And that terrible cycle continuing… ●●● Late at night, in a certain studio. The person who had finished the radio broadcast removed their headphones. His—or her—face was hidden in shadow. “‘The Price of a Wish’… a good story,” the person whispered into the microphone. “People constantly envy others’ lives. But without knowing what lies beneath…” Through the studio window, Tokyo’s night view was visible. Among countless lights, people tonight were also envying someone and being envied by someone. “Everyone, please be careful with the word ‘envious,'” the person smiled. “Your wishes might come true in unexpected ways…” In the shadows, the person’s figure slowly changed. From one form to another. And then to yet another. As if living countless lives in one body. “Please continue listening to ‘The Dark Frequency.’ We await new stories and… new wishes.” That voice melted into the darkness of night. [End] ●●● Tanaka Shinya removed his earphones. 2:53 AM. “What a terrifying story…” he murmured softly. Shinya was a 28-year-old office worker. Recently, his coworker Matsuda had received an unexpected promotion, and he couldn’t help feeling somewhat jealous. “I wonder how much his salary is now…” Shinya thought as he lay in bed. “He’s probably living better than me…” The next day during lunch break, Shinya spotted Matsuda in the company cafeteria. Matsuda was eating alone. For some reason, looking at him reminded Shinya of last night’s ghost story. “Hey, Matsuda,” Shinya called out. “Congratulations on the promotion. Did your salary go up too?” Matsuda smiled somewhat awkwardly. “Well, a little.” “That’s nice,” Shinya said without thinking. “I’m envi…” At that moment, Shinya stopped mid-sentence. Last night’s ghost story flashed vividly in his mind. The warning that the word “envious” could change one’s fate. “What’s wrong?” Matsuda asked curiously. “Oh, nothing…” Shinya hesitated. “Your responsibilities must have increased too, but good luck.” Matsuda showed a slightly surprised expression but soon smiled. “Thank you.” On the way home that day, Shinya was deep in thought. If last night’s ghost story was true, just saying “envious” might cause him to switch places with the other person. Thinking about it that way, his feelings of envying others around him simply disappeared. You can’t understand other people’s lives just by looking at the surface. Everyone has invisible struggles and worries. Shinya realized it was important to be grateful for his own life and do his best in his given circumstances. When he reached his apartment, Shinya deleted the radio app. “I won’t listen anymore,” he decided. However, at 2:46 AM, faint static began leaking from Shinya’s smartphone… Static… Click… “2:46 AM. Frequency 0.0. We now bring you ‘The Dark Frequency’…” [True End]