Summer ghost story: The Chorus

okay I wasn't going to post this but my grandpa retired last year and he told us this story and I genuinely can't stop thinking about it.

so grandpa spent basically his whole career as an elementary school teacher in the Kinki region of Japan. and this happened during his very first summer break at that school.

he was really into music, played instruments as a hobby. so whenever he had free time he'd go borrow the music room early in the morning and just play organ by himself. peaceful little routine, right.

so one morning he's in the middle of playing and he looks up and there's like. ten kids. just standing at the door. staring at him. completely blank expressions. he has NO idea when they showed up.

he's startled but okay he's a teacher, he pulls himself together. says "hey!" asks what they're doing there. nothing. no response. he looks closer and realizes he doesn't recognize any of them. and their clothes were... off. not like modern kids' clothes at all. kind of worn down.

"what grade are you in? why are you here so early?"

still nothing. they just stood there. staring at the organ.

grandpa figured they weren't doing anything bad, just seemed drawn to the instrument. so he started playing a folk song.

and the second the music started their faces LIT UP. just completely transformed. and they started singing along.

he said the singing was almost childlike but actually really good?? lively and full of energy, exactly how you'd expect kids to sound. he got so caught up in it he just kept playing, listening to them, kind of entranced.

and then the song ended.

he looked up.

they were gone.

no door opening. no footsteps. no sound of anyone moving. just. gone. like they'd never been there.

grandpa stood there confused, went back to the teachers' room.

a senior colleague was just arriving for the day and grandpa told him what happened. the colleague got this weird look. went quiet for a second. then said "...ah. so that's what it was."

and he just. slid the morning newspaper across grandpa's desk without saying anything.

grandpa looked at the date.

and that's when he understood.

that day was the anniversary of a massive air raid on that area during the war. the school had been used as an evacuation shelter. it was bombed. completely destroyed. what grandpa was working in was the rebuilt version.

after that, grandpa played the organ in that music room every year on that date. like an offering. a memorial.

but he never saw those kids again. not once.

he told us: "I'd give anything to hear them sing one more time. but the fact that they never came back... that probably means they've found peace. that's good. that's good."