The clouds loomed darkly overhead, and the air was heavy with the threat of rain. It seemed only a matter of time before a downpour would drench the school grounds. 

Inside, the bell echoed through the hallways, signaling the end of the school day and urging everyone to head home before the storm arrived. 

For most, this was the cue to leave. Even some of those with outdoor extracurricular activities had decided to call it a day, wary of the impending storm.

However, a handful of students still lingered. 

In one of the empty classrooms, four students gathered around a single table, their eyes fixed on a small, timeworn wooden box at its center.

Yellowed talismans, inked with red kanji characters, were plastered over the box, which was further secured by a 'shimenawa' — a loop of twisted rice straw rope, worn and fraying at the edges.

"This… this is the actual cursed box, the one that only appears to those who have completed the seven ghost stories of the school!" one of them whispered in awe. 

The speaker, a tall, skinny boy with glasses that gleamed under the fluorescent lights, was nearly bouncing with excitement. His name was Togarashi.

"How did you find it, senpai?" he asked, his eyes widening as he looked up at the girl across from him.

The girl in question, Ishinoya, stood with her arms crossed, a smirk tugging at her lips. Long, inky black hair fell over her face, her bangs hiding her eyes, giving her an air of mystery. 

"Dedication, Togarashi-kun," she replied, nodding proudly. "It's all about dedication."

Sasaki, another girl standing by the table, scoffed. She pushed her stylish glasses up, glancing skeptically at the box. 

"Really? This looks like something you could buy online. Are you pulling our leg again, Ishinoya?"

"What?! No, I'm serious!" Ishinoya huffed, her voice rising defensively. 

"I found it… in the abandoned building's toilet! The one no one's used for years!"

"Gross," Sasaki shuddered, pulling back a little, her expression twisted in disgust. "That's just… nasty."

"Everyone, calm down." A solemn voice cut in. 

It was Tanaka, a boy with a bowl cut, who looked at his clubmates with an air of forced patience. 

"We'll know if it's real soon enough — once we open it." 

His gaze shifted to the last person in the room, his tone turning sarcastic. "Isn't that right, Miyamoto-kun?"

Slouched in a chair near the window, Akira Miyamoto finally stirred. He rolled his neck lazily, stretching out as though he'd been asleep for hours. 

His ebony hair framed sharp, purplish eyes that held a hint of irritation. With a tall, muscular build and chiseled jawline, Akira looked entirely out of place among his "nerdier" clubmates.

"Yes, senpai. It's real. I helped Ishinoya-senpai find the box," he muttered, stifling a yawn and rubbing his temples like he hadn't slept in days. 

To be honest, Akira didn't believe in the supernatural at all. He'd only joined the club for the peace and quiet — no one expected him to do much anyway.

"See? I told you! Let's open it!" Ishinoya's eyes sparkled with excitement as she carefully began untying the shimenawa. 

Her fingers moved slowly over the weathered rope, then carefully peeled away the fragile, yellowed talismans.

With a small gasp, she lifted the box's lid. Inside was a bundle of hair, bound with yet another thread. 

Ishinoya gently reached in and lifted it, handling it as if it were made of glass, afraid that any sudden movement might cause it to disintegrate.

"This… this must be the hair of the woman who died in this building," she announced, her voice filled with morbid awe. 

A chill ran down the spines of her three friends, each of them instinctively shuddering — all except Akira, who stared at the hair with an unbothered look, arms crossed.

"Senpai… What does the legend say about this cursed object?" 

Sasaki's voice quivered, a bead of sweat trickling down her temple as the room seemed to grow colder.

"Th-that's—" Togarashi began to answer, but before he could finish, a sudden clap of thunder exploded outside. 

The sound reverberated through the building, rattling the windows, and in the same instant, the lights went out, plunging the room into darkness.

"Ahhh!" Sasaki screamed, throwing herself into Tanaka's arms, gripping him in sheer terror.

Tanaka patted her shoulder with a forced calm. "It seems the power went out because of the lightning," he murmured, though his eyes flickered uneasily around the darkened room.

"Y-yeah! That must be it!" 

Togarashi's voice shook, betraying his own growing fear as he clutched the edge of the table.

Akira suddenly stood, alert, his sharp gaze fixed on the door. "Shhh… Something's coming." His voice was low, and his eyes narrowed as he listened intently.

The others fell silent, each one straining to hear. Then, faintly, a sound emerged from the hallway outside. It was the slow, rhythmic scrape of a broom on the floor.

SHREEEEK. SHREEEEK.

The sound grew louder, and then a voice drifted through the darkness, hoarse and cracked, as if it hadn't spoken in ages.

"One… two… three…"

The voice paused. Then, a chilling whisper: "Ready or not, here I come."

"Se-senpai, what… what is that?!" 

Sasaki's voice hitched in panic, her breath coming in shallow gasps. 

She clutched Tanaka tighter, her eyes wide as she tried to peer through the dim light.

Ishinoya's face had turned pale, her usual confidence drained. 

"Ah, yes… I remember… The legend said… we need to play hide-and-seek," she stammered, her voice trembling. 

She hadn't expected the curse to actually come to life.

"S-senpai, what should we do?" Togarashi's usual excitement about ghosts had vanished, replaced by terror. 

"How can we hide from a ghost?"

"I… I don't know!" Ishinoya stammered, her voice rising in desperation.

The group exchanged panicked glances, their whispers filled with frantic speculation — was this some elaborate prank, or were they truly caught in something supernatural? 

All the while, the ominous scraping sound inched closer.

Akira's gaze was fixed on the door. There, in the narrow gap between the door and its frame, he saw it: a shadow… and then, eyes. 

Cold, unblinking white eyes with dark pupils, peering at them from the darkness.

He stepped back, accidentally bumping into a desk with a loud thud. The sudden noise silenced his friends' argument, and they turned to see where he was looking.

"Senpai…" 

Akira's voice was barely above a whisper as he pointed at the door. 

"Someone's watching us."

Before they could react, the woman's voice rasped out from the doorway. 

"Found you."