Urban ghosts aren't born from natural death. They're born from stories about death.
Long ago, every spirit had a body and a burial. When someone died, the Gravekeepers recorded their name, sealed their sorrow into earth and stone, and their spirit could rest—or be bound as a grave.
But as time moved forward, people stopped tending graves. They stopped remembering names. The world filled with cities and screens, and no one lit incense anymore.
Yet fear didn't die.
It just changed shape.
Children whispered about bathrooms where red paper appears, tunnels haunted by women with slit mouths, taxis that pick up ghosts after midnight. Fear became folklore, and folklore—repeated often enough—became faith.
Faith gives birth.
And from that faith, urban ghosts were born.
They have no bodies, no graves, no true names. Their existence comes entirely from collective imagination. Every time someone retells the story, believes it, fears it—the ghost grows stronger.
---
The wind dragged her veil aside. Beneath it—half her face was gone. Flesh dissolved into shadow, eyes like glass marbles drowning in ink.
Saiko took one slow step back. "…I change my vote to cat."
The ghost tilted her head. "Why aren't you answering me?"
Genkei's hand went to his sword.
"She's testing perception," he muttered. "It's part of her story."
The Lady's eyes flicked toward him.
And she vanished.
fwip—
A shimmer of air behind him—then a cold hand gripped his shoulder.
Genkei twisted just in time, his blade flashing across her midsection.
It passed through her harmlessly.
"Intangible." He sucked his teeth.
Before I could move, Saiko's palm hit the ground.
A ripple of gray erupted from the ghost's feet—like volcanic dust blooming outward. The air filled with choking smoke, glowing with red motes.
The Lady phased backward, her form flickering through the haze.
"Attacks using spiritons keep her materialized!" Saiko shouted. "If she phases out, we can't touch her!"
What's spiritons, attacks using abilities? I thought to myself.
I ran left, trying to flank, fists up. AK's presence stirred faintly within me, felt like a pulse under my ribs. I could hear her whisper: *Red… or blue?*
"Not yet," I muttered. "Let's see what she can do."
The Lady extended her hand—air warped.
The ash in the air twisted violently, dragged upward like it had been grabbed by invisible fingers.
Ah, psychokinesis of course.
"Watch out from the street!" I heard genkei shout.
Chunks of concrete lifted from the street and launched toward us.
I dove under one, rolled, came up swinging—my punch went clean through her chest.
So she always has this active?
Her fingers touched my cheek.
And suddenly—my legs went weak and I fell onto my knees.
Cold spread through my veins.
She was draining me.
"ITSUKI!" Saiko's voice snapped me back—she hurled a ball of ash between us. The blast threw me backward, shoving the Lady into a lamppost that shuddered and bent.
I gasped, breath returning. "She—drains life force through contact!"
Genkei slid forward, stance and blade drawn low, whispering a name under his breath.
Phantom Cut — Jisatsumaru.
The blade shimmered, a second spectral edge overlaying it, flickering half a beat ahead of his movement.
The Lady blinked, curious. "Oh… that's beautiful."
He slashed
She dodged the first cut.
The second one—the phantom cut—landed half a second later, slicing across her side and spilling mist instead of blood.
She hissed and vanished again.
"Stay sharp!" Genkei barked. "She's repositioning—"
Her voice came from *every direction*.
"So lonely… so alone…"
Then she appeared behind Saiko, hands reaching out.
Saiko turned and detonated a sphere of compressed ash between them. The explosion lit up the intersection like lightning.
The shockwave flung Saiko backward—her skin cracked along her forearm, glowing faintly red beneath like molten glass.
She grit her teeth. "I can still go."
"Saiko—your body—!"
"Don't worry! We can win this!"
The Lady in White reformed in the center of the crossroad, veil fluttering despite no wind.
Something radiated like pressure—our fear, exhaustion, doubt all spiking at once. I felt my hands shake.
"Do you think I'm beautiful?" she whispered again.
The streetlights all went out.
---
We were losing ground fast.
Her teleportation made her impossible to pin. Every time we got close, she turned intangible, appearing behind us like a memory we couldn't erase.
We fell back—past the empty street, back toward the faint glow of the ramen shop.
The streets were dead quiet except for our footsteps.
When we burst through the door, the owner ducked behind the counter, terrified. The man from earlier—the one who told us about the crossroads—stared wide-eyed. "What the hell is that—"
She appeared behind him before I could speak.
Her hand touched his neck.
And his body began to wither.
"NO!" I lunged, but too late. His skin shriveled, eyes hollowed, body collapsing like a puppet without strings. She exhaled softly, veil fluttering with stolen breath.
Her empathy ability made us come back to the shop because of our doubts and fears. She planned this so she could drain the life of this guy?
Something snapped inside me.
AK's voice hammered my skull. "You want power, boy? Then choose."
My hands trembled. "Red…"
A surge of scarlet energy tore through me—AK's cloak burst to life across my shoulders, ribbons of blood-like paper spiraling around my arms. A mask split into existence across half my face, eyes glowed crimson.
"In my version, blue is mercy, red is blood."
I dashed forward, my strikes sliced the air with ghostly afterimages. The Lady blocked with a wall of psychokinetic force
Can I kick this?
—but I shattered it with a roundhouse cloaked in scarlet energy. She teleported onto the street.
Where do you think you're going?
I crossed the distance quickly, grabbed her wrist, forced her back into tangibility, and drove my knife through her chest.
She screamed, vanishing again—only for Genkei's phantom cut to intercept her reappearance.
Saiko touched the floor and ash came up from the manholes and blew half the street apart, her arms now glowing and cracked like porcelain.
Geneki and I dashed back out of the ash before the explosion went off.
The Lady staggered, holding on to a lamppost flickering. "So… much… pain…"
"You brought it on yourself, you keep killing innocent people." Genkei said.
She reached out again—
Ah crap, why is she coming for me? She has more strength?
I was caught off guard but her hand passed through my shoulder harmlessly. Her strength was fading.
"Guys it's time for the kill shot."
We closed in.
Genkei unleashed a barrage of unpredictable cuts.
"I'm not only able to detonate objects and ash!" Saiko touched her arm and it exploded.
That's brutal but ghosts deserve this.
I created 3 illusions of myself and hid amongst them. The lady swung with one arm and got 2.
I read a book about how the human eye works back in middle school.
The blind spot should be around here if ghosts' eyes work like a human's.
I ran to her side, spun my knife and jammed it into her side, took it out and slashed her down her middle section.
Her veil fluttered away, revealing her face—half-beautiful, half-decayed.
She smiled weakly. "Then… am I beautiful now?"
I didn't answer.
My blade pierced her chest for a final time.
Her body dissolved into white light.
And that light— flowed into me.
---
I gasped, collapsing to my knees. The street was silent again, steam rising from the cracks. Saiko was breathing hard, blood dripping from her fingers. Genkei's blade dimmed, the phantom edge fading away.
Saiko looked at me. "You… did it?"
"I think so." I said quietly. "She's gone."
Genkei stared at the spot where she vanished. "No… not gone."
I felt it too.
That cold weight inside my chest. The echo of her voice whispering to me.