maybe we’re looking at it too objectively, I said. she didn’t agree, and didn’t disagree.
twenty minutes prior: the rain had shown no signs of abating, and we were tired of three days of wet wet weather. you see, we’d shown up at the festival hoping against hope for un-wet weather.
never mind. it was kinda a vibe actually.
chocolate crepes in the rain were still best eaten with two hands, so we sought shelter at the small building at the edge of the field. As we licked whipped cream, we tried guessing what the people in this small building could possibly be screaming about. The screams, like the rain, went on and on.
we watched countless middle school boys hype each other up before heading into the haunted house. they would come up with cheers, and would travel together in a bundle of arms and legs. how cute, we thought. then we’d hear their screams. interesting, we thought.
it got so interesting that we just had to try it. so we parted with ¥500 and were welcomed into a dark room. this was empty.
and then, another dark room. this had a ball of screaming boys.
like, the bunch of middle schoolers that had entered before us. they were still there, trapped in the haunted house (presumably forever if we hadn’t appeared). in their frenzied state, i have no idea what they are saying. they’re pointing into the next room: sliding door opened to reveal the (electric) fake candle at the corner of the tatami mat, the paper “ofuda” i.e. our key to escape scattered around the candle.
the couple that entered together with us take a look. and jump back. wait what? i ask them. they just point into the room like the boys.
so i lean in. and at the corner of the room, there’s a ghost. long black hair, white robe. she isn’t moving, and it’s dark, and my eyesight is horrible, so I thought she was a pillow with a wig.
I turn back to the screaming boys and the couple. so what are we supposed to do again? they tell me to go get the pieces of paper around the candle. I stare at them dumbfounded.
just go in, and get it, and come back out? I ask. that’s it?
yes, the couple says. one of the boys says, people who don’t understand what’s happening you can go ahead (わからない人どうぞ)
so i go in. the “ghost” starts moving at me on all fours. the boys scream more. me? I don’t scream when scared, but I’d be lying if I said it was not in the least unsettling. but also, the thing is, i know this is a fun attraction. this is a human dressed as a ghost. i walk to the ofuda, pick them up, and while coming out my only worry is whether I’ll accidentally step on her.
when I emerge, the boys clap. senpai!! they exclaim. i feel like I’m in an anime. this is. the absolute highlight of my day. of my week. of my existence.
my companion was the only other person who didn’t scream. she posited that our expectations were too high, perhaps. the entire train ride back, we discussed how amusing it was.
but maybe. just maybe, it’s not as fun not to scream, to be frightened. in order to feel that sort of emotion, enough to let out so much noise, one must be immersed in the moment, isn't that right?
it takes thinking about it just enough to believe it, but not so much thinking that everything becomes… inconsequential (?that probably isn’t the word. regardless,)
there’s probably a goldilocks zone.
like if you don't think enough, then your imagination doesn't get to all the scary things that aren’t actually going to happen. it doesn’t process the image to get that feeling of fright. it's just a plain image, as it is, that cannot harm you.
and then you have us, overthinking it. unable to suspend our disbelief. Is that a barrier to having fun? To having more fun?
I don't know.
2026.07.04
