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It was a brisk, incredibly pleasant fall afternoon just before the turn of the century. Akane Tendo, matriarch of the Tendo Dojo, sat in her dojo to breathe and grieve for her father, the late Soun Tendo.
Ryoga Tendo, Akane’s husband, returned from the kitchen, after putting away the dishes from the home-cooked meal he had made today. Their children had retired to their rooms after dinner, and they were able to have a nice moment.
Despite Akane’s seeming inability to create any dish that couldn’t be completed with a few minutes in the microwave, Akane had finally convinced her father to let her marry the darling house-husband she had found while getting her degree at Tokyo University. He had held on to another man seemingly decided to be her fiancé without her consent one day in her first year of high school. Akane couldn’t remember the dickwad’s name, something along the lines of Rantaro Sato or something.
Supposedly, the man was a great martial artist that would join her school to his, but he must have been so bad with directions, as he didn’t even show up within a month of saying he would. Her Ryoga was bad with directions, sure, but tie him to one building and he could be relatively reliable. He even had this curse of some sort he picked up in a remote part of China that allowed her to cuddle a cute piglet when she was stressed.
Her cell-phone buzzed, and Akane retrieved it from her skirt pocket.
Ukyo: Hey ‘Kane, ‘Natsu and I are thinking of heading out to the old abandoned dojo tomorrow night before the city demolishes it, wanna come with?
Akane rolled her eyes. The old abandoned dojo had sat empty gathering dust for a good twenty years. Back when her father sat on the city council, he killed any and all attempts to condemn the old building, saying that it brought a distinct character to the neighborhood.
The reason the old dojo became abandoned was never released to the public, though the more conspiratorial in the community foolishly tried to link it to the sudden disappearance of respected local kendo instructor Nadoka Saotome, who they claimed lived in the dojo when it was maintained.
For nearly a decade after her father's death, the council had refrained from removing it, out of respect. Akane had never really understood why the old men running the council dragged their feet on the issue for such a long time.
Now that a brand new council had been elected and the last of the old guard was retired, the city finally condemned the aging piece of land. Even still, local children steered clear of it on the grounds that it was supposedly haunted, but that was ridiculous. It was 1997, no one over the age of twelve legitimately believed in any of that, even if they would never normally think of trespassing.
The following day, Akane took the train back from her desk job downtown, scarfed down the dinner Ryoga had cooked for her, and made the journey of a few blocks over to Ukyo’s place.
Ukyo lived on the second floor atop a Furinkan staple restaurant, Okonomiyaki Ucchan’s. She lived with her wife, Konatsu, in that space; the two ran the restaurant to flex their culinary skills and make a modest living.
When Akane arrived and ascended the stairs to the living quarters, she was surprised to learn that she hadn't been the only one to be called forth for the journey.
Sitting on the other side of the room were her sisters, Nabiki and Kasumi. While the two had ceded the dojo to Akane after marrying and moving in with their spouses, the two lived in other Nerima neighborhoods, so they hadn't been far away at all.
Kasumi and Nabiki’s eyes lit up when Akane entered, and the three sisters shared a big hug. They turned to Ukyo, who explained how they'd be getting to the old abandoned dojo; soon they wrapped up and began the trek over.
Akane recoiled as they arrived at the old abandoned dojo. The entire front gate had been overtaken by weeds. A plaque near the entryway held faded out letters that made out the characters “Saotome” if you squinted hard enough. Akane figured she needed a new contact prescription.
Akane, her sisters, and her friends walked up the short pathway to the main entryway of the dojo. The door handles were chained together by what was once a heavy steel chain; it was shimmering in a bright red hue reminiscent of a mushroom.
“Okay, it’s all locked up, we don’t have to go in there, it’s all good,” Akane whistled before spinning around. “Just a decaying old building!”
Nabiki caught her and spun her back around. Akane reluctantly tapped on the faded wooden doors and they collapsed in a pile of splinters at her feet.
“No one would buy this plot of land if they were given a stipend for it, Daddy really should have let them condemn the place earlier,” Nabiki exclaimed exasperatedly.
The assembled group nodded at Nabiki’s statement before stepping through the remains of the door and into the dojo proper. The entryway was tidy, if extremely dusty. Akane moved over into the shoe cabinet and opened it up. Inside were three pairs of shoes: slippers that had been so worn through she could see the dusty wood below them, wooden clogs with rot through them, and dusty but well-kept tennis shoes.
Akane felt a chill run through her spine, and slammed the door to the shoe cabinet. Why did I get convinced to come here, why did I get convinced to come here, she thought.
She felt a warm hand on her shoulder, and turned around in surprise to see Ukyo grinning at her. “Find anything interesting?” she inquired.
Akane shook her head. It was just old shoes, that was perfectly normal in a house like this. She was overreacting.
The party walked through the narrow hallway leading out to the entryway. Konatsu took the lead and Akane brought up the rear, with the rest of the group in the middle.
Akane heard a soft click as she left the entryway; the door behind her softly closed in the gentle breeze flowing around the abandoned dojo. Akane walked slowly behind her sister towards what would certainly be the interior rooms.
A nearby door creaked open, and a bloodcurdling scream echoed throughout the entire block. The smell of rot overtook Akane's senses as she and her sister raced to the room Konatsu had entered and recoiled at the sight.
Laying there, underneath a large banner reading “Ritual suicide”, we're three decaying corpses. The tatami floor of the room took on a pinkish hue, centered around the bodies and their detached heads nearby.
Akane would continue to have nightmares years after the structure was demolished and turned into a pleasant, multi-story shopping mall.