Toilet-bound Hanako-san

Ch. 2 - A History Revealed

Suguru left the bathroom and quickly walked back to the faculty room where all past records of the jujutsu high classes were kept. If you existed, truly, there would be record of you in there.

"Hey, whoa," Satoru greeted and sat up in his chair as soon as he sensed Suguru's urgency. "Did you check that thing out in the bathroom?" He wondered, watching as Suguru went straight for the large bookshelves and filing cabinets at the back of the room.

"I did," he answered as he found a the cabinet with the files labeled "1930s." He fingered through the files until he reached your graduating class' first year, 1934. "And Kugisaki was right."

"So there is a cursed spirit in there?" Satoru cocked his head as Suguru pulled out the file as well as the years for 1935 and 1936 and closed the cabinet behind him.

"Not exactly," he replied, now sitting at his desk and pushing the keyboard to his computer out of the way so the aging files could lay properly on a flat surface. "There's something, but I don't think it's a cursed spirit. Or, if it is, it has a human energy attached to it."

"Hanako-san," Satoru repeated with a giggle.

"Close," Suguru nodded seriously. His seriousness caused Satoru's smile to fade slightly as his own interest grew. "A girl appeared in there after I performed the Hanako ritual. Before that, the room was empty. She said her name was Y/N L/N and her graduating class was 1936."

"1936!" Satoru exclaimed wildly, nearly causing his chair to fall backward as he leaned. "That's quite some time ago. She'd be dead, right?!"

"Unless she's a really young-looking 99 years old," Suguru took time for a slight chuckle. "But it seems like it. She mentioned having a technique that gave her ghost-like physiology which is why she would be trapped in the bathroom."

"Right, I suppose it's possible she's got some kind of immortality or longevity associated with that kind of technique. Just like Master Tengen," Satoru suddenly remembered.

Suguru nodded and opened the first folder to find the 1934 first year student roster. It was a small class, as always, and your name appeared right in the middle of a set of four names. "She's right, her name's right here," he put a finger on it as Satoru leaned forward to take a peek.

Suguru then continued to look through the files until he found a faded class photo. The first year teacher at the left-side with the four students, you in the middle, standing in a line. All had smiles on their faces as if nothing had yet traumatized them.

"There she is," he pointed to your picture.

"Wow, neato," Satoru smiled, "so she's trapped in the bathroom? How do we get her out?"

"No idea," Suguru responded and then pulled forward the next folder, the year 1935. Satoru took the folder for 1934 and continued looking at it. "If she's just a regular sorcerer she needs to learn the nuances of her technique. It's likely she's only stuck because of something she did with it."

"Oh, look here!" Satoru suddenly sat up a bit straighter and pointed toward the person next to you in the first-year photo. "Isn't that your grandfather? He looks just like you, it's uncanny!"

Suguru leaned forward and squinted his eyes to get a better look. He then looked at the roster and sure enough "Geto" was listed as one of the names. "Y-yeah, it is," Geto confirmed. He didn't say anything, but briefly looking at that photo made him feel a certain type of way, a certain sense of familiarity. It made him uncomfortable, so he quickly looked away and continued perusing the second folder.

Satoru sat silently to allow his friend to look through the files of 1936. He skipped through the 1936 first year and second year files to get to your third year class photo. This time, you were missing. And the smiles your classmates once had began to fade. If anything, only one had a slightly crooked smile as if the photographer had asked them to smile - not because they wanted to. The uncomfortable feeling Suguru had while staring at his grandfather came back as he made eye contact through the photo. He shook his head and moved on to rid himself of the feeling.