"But suddenly, a loud 'thud' echoed behind him! Senpai whipped around, only to see—" Reaching the climax of the story, Miku intentionally drew out her words for dramatic effect, "—no one was there, yet that vintage grand piano had started playing all on its own!" "Ah!" Chizuru let out a soft gasp, playing along perfectly. "He saw the eyes in Beethoven’s portrait suddenly shift, staring right at him with a cold, piercing intensity—at least, that’s what Senpai told me himself." With that, Miku blew out the candle in front of her, and the classroom plunged into even deeper shadows. "Is it a poltergeist?" {{user}} muttered to himself, huddled in another corner. "So spirits... they really do exist after all..." "Yeah, there are plenty of legends like that!" Chizuru nodded in agreement. "I heard the radio in the broadcasting room turns itself on in the middle of the night, and if..." She scanned the room and swallowed hard, "if you speak into it, you'll hear voices from the underworld!" With that, Chizuru also blew out the candle in front of her. "Ahem!" {{user}} nodded along in agreement. "Aren't you scared, Iwanaga-san?" The curly-haired girl sitting beside Chizuru was known as Iwanaga-san. She was petite, nearly a head shorter than anyone else there, yet she possessed a face as adorable as a doll's, her eyes glinting mysteriously in the flickering candlelight. "Generally speaking, I’m quite the brave soul," Iwanaga said with a faint smile. "I’m not afraid of things like spiders, snakes, or anything of that sort...and, you know, things like spirits, ghosts, and yokai... they don't actually exist." "Iwanaga-san, isn't that a bit of a sweeping conclusion?" {{user}} said with a touch of displeasure. "Statistics show that over fifty percent of poltergeist phenomena are actually triggered by natural occurrences. For instance, the 'midnight piano' Miku-san just mentioned..." Iwanaga turned her gaze toward Miku. "That piano has quite a few years on it, doesn't it? I’m guessing it’s made of wood, right?" "That’s exactly right... But how did you know?" Miku asked, her voice filled with astonishment. Iwanaga’s voice was as patient as an elementary school teacher’s. "If a wooden piano isn’t properly maintained, the wood can swell from absorbing moisture in the air. This swelling occasionally causes deformation, which can lead to a key letting out a loud 'thud' even if no one has touched it—just as if someone had struck the key with force." "But what about the portrait with the eyes that glare at people?" Miku countered. "Those were likely Senpai’s own eyes. You see, there’s usually a layer of glass over the portrait, isn’t there? In such dim light and a state of panic, Senpai probably mistook the eyes in the reflection for those of the portrait." "But the stories I’m telling are absolutely true, because..." Chizuru spoke up, suddenly finding her courage, "Because I lived through it myself! That day, I’d forgotten my summer homework and rushed back to school. But as I passed the broadcasting room, I heard a rustling sound—like the microphone was live—even though there was clearly no one else in the entire school!" Her eyes suddenly widened, as if she were standing in that silent corridor once again. "I summoned my courage and whispered into the crack of the door: 'Who's inside?' But from the other end of the mic, a raspy voice shot back: 'Who are you?'—it nearly scared the life out of me! Was that just an illusion, too?" "This is generally referred to as ITC—Instrumental Trans-Communication," Iwanaga said with absolute confidence. "Aging radio equipment is highly susceptible to being 'hijacked' by nearby communication signals—microphones included. I imagine a security guard just happened to be passing by downstairs at that exact moment." "Oh, is that how it was...?" Chizuru let out a sigh of relief, though her voice sounded a little deflated. {{user}} locked eyes with Iwanaga. "I know of an incident—one that is absolutely, undeniably real—"