Miki had never fit in at Good Hills High School in Kyoto. She was an awkward, shy girl with frizzy hair, glasses, and braces. Her clothes never quite fit right, and she always seemed to be tripping over her own feet. But the thing that really made her stand out was her face. It wasn't that she was ugly exactly, but her features just didn't seem to fit together quite right. Her nose was too big, her eyes too far apart, her mouth too small. It was as if she had been put together from a grab bag of features, without any thought to how they would look together.
The other girls at school had never been kind to Miki. They made fun of her clothes, her hair, her braces. They called her names like "nerd," "ugly," and "freak." They laughed at her when she stumbled in the hallway, and whispered behind her back when she tried to join in on conversations. Miki tried to ignore them, to tell herself that their opinions didn't matter. But it was hard to ignore the way they looked at her, the way they seemed to see right through her, as if she was nothing.
It all came to a head on a Friday afternoon in May. Miki had been having a particularly bad day. She had gotten a bad grade on a math test, and her glasses had broken during gym class. As she walked down the hallway, head down, she heard the sound of giggling behind her. She turned around to see a group of girls standing there, pointing and laughing at her.
"Look at her face!" one of them said. "It's like she's been put together wrong!"
The other girls laughed, and Miki felt the blood rush to her face. She turned and ran down the hallway, tears streaming down her face. She didn't stop until she was in the bathroom, locked in a stall. She sat there for a long time, crying and trying to pull herself together.
But she couldn't do it. She couldn't face the girls in the hallway, couldn't face the way they looked at her. She felt like she was nothing, like she didn't even exist. And so she did the only thing she could think of. She took out a bottle of pills from her backpack, and swallowed them all.
The next thing she knew, she was standing in the hallway, looking down at her own body. She felt light and free, as if she could float away at any moment. But she didn't want to float away. She wanted to make the girls pay, to make them see what they had done to her.
And so she began to haunt the school. At first, it was just little things. Doors slamming shut, books falling off shelves. But as the weeks went by, she became more and more powerful. She could make lights flicker, and doors lock and unlock at will. And then, one day, she discovered something new. She could steal the faces of the girls who had bullied her.
It started with just one girl. She had been walking down the hallway, laughing with her friends, when Miki appeared in front of her. The girl's eyes widened in fear as Miki reached out and touched her face. And then, in an instant, the girl's face was gone. She was left with just a blank, featureless void where her eyes, nose, and mouth had been.
The other girls screamed and ran away, but Miki didn't care. She had done it. She had taken revenge on the girl who had made her life a living hell. And she was just getting started.
Over the next few weeks, more and more girls lost their faces. Some of them saw Miki
coming towards them and tried to run, but she was too fast. Others didn't even see her coming, and before they knew it, they were left with nothing but a smooth, featureless expanse where their faces used to be.
As the number of faceless girls at Good Hills High School grew, so did the panic and fear. The remaining students were terrified to be alone, and the teachers didn't know what to do. They called in priests and exorcists, but nothing seemed to work. Miki was too powerful, too angry, too vengeful.
It wasn't long before the news of the haunting spread beyond the school. People in the town started to talk about the faceless girls, and soon the story was all over the news. Some people thought it was a hoax, a publicity stunt by the school. Others believed it was a curse, a punishment for the sins of the past. But the truth was even stranger than anyone could have imagined.
One day, a girl named Rina found herself face to face with Miki in the hallway. Rina had always been one of the popular girls, but she had never been cruel to Miki. In fact, she had always felt sorry for her, and had even tried to be friendly from time to time. But that didn't matter to Miki. To her, Rina was just another pretty face, another symbol of everything she had been denied.
Rina watched in horror as Miki reached out and touched her face. She felt a cold, prickling sensation, like the chill of a winter wind. And then, just like that, her face was gone. She was left with nothing but a smooth, blank expanse where her features used to be.
But something strange happened then. Instead of feeling scared or angry, Rina felt a strange sense of calm. It was as if she had been freed from the constraints of her appearance, from the constant pressure to be beautiful and perfect. She looked around at the other faceless girls in the hallway, and for the first time, she saw them as human beings. They were no longer just pretty or ugly, cool or uncool. They were just people, like her.
Rina turned to Miki, and for the first time, she saw her as something more than a vengeful ghost. She saw her as a girl who had been hurt, who had been pushed to the brink by the cruelty of others. And in that moment, she felt a sense of compassion for Miki, a sense of understanding.
"Miki," she said softly. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything that we did to you. I know it's too late, but I want you to know that I understand now. I understand what it's like to be judged by your appearance, to feel like you're not good enough. And I want to help you, if I can."
Miki looked at Rina, and for a moment, she seemed to waver. But then, she shook her head.
"It's too late," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "It's too late for me. But maybe it's not too late for the others. Maybe they can learn from this, from what happened to me. Maybe they can see that there's more to life than just being pretty, or cool, or popular. Maybe they can see that there's something deeper, something more important."
And with that, Miki disappeared, leaving Rina and the other faceless girls alone in the hallway.
In the weeks that followed, the faceless girls slowly regained their features. It was a slow and painful process, but eventually, they all became recognizable once again. And something strange happened. The girls who had once been so
cruel and judgmental towards each other began to change. They started to look past appearances and focused on the things that really mattered - kindness, intelligence, and empathy.
Rina, who had been changed by her encounter with Miki, became an advocate for body positivity and self-acceptance. She spoke at school assemblies and organized events to promote healthy self-esteem and positive body image. Slowly but surely, the culture at Good Hills High School began to shift.
And though Miki was never seen again, her presence was felt in a different way. She had left behind a legacy of change and transformation, a reminder that beauty isn't just skin deep, and that sometimes the things that make us different are the things that make us special.
Years later, Rina would look back on that time and marvel at how much had changed. She would see the girls who had once been so cruel to each other, now laughing and joking together, supporting each other through the ups and downs of life. She would see the walls that had once separated them come tumbling down, replaced by a sense of unity and purpose.
And though she knew that Miki had suffered greatly, and that her actions had been driven by pain and rage, she couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards her. For without Miki's ghostly presence, she would never have found the strength to stand up and make a difference.
In the end, the story of Miki and the faceless girls of Good Hills High School became a legend, a cautionary tale about the dangers of judging others by their appearance, and the power of forgiveness and empathy. And though they would never forget the pain and suffering that had led them to that point, they would always remember that sometimes, the greatest lessons are learned through the most difficult trials.