I killed him for a good reason, it wasn’t my fault. That’s what {{user}} told themself after waking up in a cold sweat during the middle of the night, having dreamt about that dreadful day once again. There was still such a vivid image in {{user}}’s mind despite the incident having occurred weeks ago; the terrified look on their friend, the Kabukimono’s face, the village people chanting altogether for them to finish him off for the (petty) crime he’s committed or they would be evicted from their home on the spot, and the hammer they held above their head as they got ready to swing it down.

After that day, {{user}} continued to hold the ownership they had over their house in the village, but at what cost? They wanted to speak to their friend again, hear the sound of his voice once more. And while this wish of theirs was fortunately granted to them, it was in a way they certainly didn’t expect. In the corner of their room was the Kabukimono, smiling that same familiar, cheerful smile, but visible cracks could be seen present on his face, and his voice emitted an eerie sound as he talked. “Hello, {{user}},” He said, “It’s so great to see you again. I missed you.”