The evening wasn’t as usual as the rest, if you could call any day at the Opera Populaire School and Dance School normal. Tonight the old superintendents Totosai and Myoga were giving a final large performance as a mark of their retirement. It was a little grander, required a little more effort. All of the dancers and singers alike were expected to be on their best behavior. Though the lead singer Kikyo wasn’t personally told that, no reason to leave the new managers with a fuming diva. The local community all followed that particular student religiously and she had a larger following than any other performer there, she was expected to move on to great things. A sudden burst of activity into Kagura’s the lead dancer’s room, a whirlwind of nervous giggles and high-pitched shrieks of fright. Most of the youngest dance troupe interrupted her space despite her desire to practice her speech to the retiring superintendents and more importantly, the greeting for the new ones. She glared at them quietly, her red eyes narrowing in irritation at the lack of respect she received as the ‘head’ of her department. “It’s the ghost!” Yuka explained as if that was all the words she needed, locking the door behind the lot of the girls and shivering. Her short black hair tickling her cheeks at the motion. Kagura’s dressing-room was fitted up with just enough to fit her station. A vanity with a mirror, a sofa, a chair and a few stand tables, a small tv and stereo took up one corner on a small entertainment center. There was an exceptional amount of closet space to hold the various costumes demanded by the variety of performances the school put on. On the walls hung a few engravings, a single but lovely knit hanging which depicted a slightly faded map of France. It wasn’t overly large or immense but to the girls who all were lodged together in a common area it seemed amazing. To have ones own room and all the space was a world away to the brats invading her quarters then. “Silly little fools..." She was superstitious enough to rub her own arms when the younger girl mentioned the ghost and after the short mutter she added. “Did you see him?” “As plainly as I see you now!” She returned, dropping into the couch with a lack of certainty as to if she’d stay standing otherwise. “I doubt that’s the ghost.” This time it was Sango, one of the girls that often acted tough but had run inside the room with the rest of the girls nonetheless. “What ghost wears a mask?” “He came straight through the wall in front of us.” Yura commented with a superior tone at Sango. “What sort of not-ghost can do that!?” “You see the ghost everywhere.” Sango pointed out dryly irritated she’d fallen into the craze for a moment with the rest of the girls. “This is the twenty-first century you should be watching less horror movies and practicing more instead. A lot of you had steps off earlier tonight.” It was true enough, for several weeks now very little had been discussed at the school but this ‘ghost’ dressed in a lovely tux who stalked about from building to building on the campus, like a shadow. He spoke to no one and no one dared speak with him, he vanished as soon as he was seen, no one knowing how or where. He didn’t make noise when he walked like any other ghost. For a while it was a joke, people would make fun of others going out late with comments like ‘don’t frighten the ghost’ or ‘hope you don’t come across the ghost’. Unfortunately, those stories were quickly becoming legend, particularly among the youngest class of girls at the school. Recently more and more of the girls were pretending to have met this supernatural being more and more often, or used the stories for excuses. If anyone had an accident, something became misplaced, or a practical joke was had it was all at the guilty hands of the ghost. No one had seen him in person. There were many men that came to the school or were walking around the school in costume that the expensive clothing were not out of place. It was only the mask that seemed to stand out in all the stories told. Miroku, the recent chief of scenery in the school, a senior this year, was apparently the only one to have seen the ghost in person. He had run across him on accident retrieving some props from one of the lower basements of the school’s grounds. He’d only seen the fellow a moment before the ghost had fled - and to anyone who would listen he said this: He is extremely tall, he could probably reach himself up without a ladder and undo light bulbs and the tux he wears was of a very rich quality. His eyes are a frightening yellow, like you might expect from a monster, aggressive like no animal I’ve ever seen. His skin is very pale, translucent almost and nearly blending into the white mask he wears. Exceptional silver hair falls around his face in bangs and then so far down his back it looks like a cloak. Though it wasn’t as if most took Miroku very seriously, the man had a common habit of hitting on the other girls and often would tell any sort of story to get a few moments of attention from them. If it wasn’t for the amount of accidents and spottings that had popped up recently likely his stories would have been thought of as just that, tales of a lonely man seeking company. For instance, a fireman is a brave fellow! He fears nothing, least of all fire! Well, the fireman in question, who had gone to make a round of inspections in the cellars, suddenly reappeared on the stage, pale, scared, trembling and practically fainted in the arms of the proud mother of feisty Sango. And why? Because he had seen coming toward him, at the level of his head, but without a body attached to it, a skeletal head of fire! And, as I said, a fireman is not afraid of fire. No one had gone down sense, though there was much talk of it in the student body about setting up camera’s and the like. Which the school was against, nothing of this strange man with a mask had been caught on the school’s security camera’s so they had been totally ignoring the existence of any sort of apparition. To return to the events. “It’s the ghost!” Yuka cried out as a thump was heard on one of the walls. Silence enveloped the dressing-room that had been drenched in sound moments before. Nothing was heard but the hard breathing of the girls. Eventually they heard the smallest sound in the hallway outside the door, everyone staring at the locked piece of wood like it was their last piece of defense. It seemed to stop just on the other side of the door. Trying to show a brave face, perhaps earn a little respect with the other girls. Kagura stood and went to the door, asking in a voice that only quivered once. “Who’s there?” The suffering silence continued and she didn’t have an answer at all. “Is there anyone behind the door here?” She managed to keep her voice steady that time. “Oh, yes, yes! There must be!” Eri cried, she was one of Yuka’s best friends and quick to jump on the same boat as her friend. “Don’t open the door! Please don’t open the door!” Kagura had a bladed fan that never left her side, she opened the door while the other girls retreated as far as they could to the other side of the dressing room. Looking into the passage and gaining some of the prestige she was after with the other girls she frowned a little. It was empty, fluorescent lighting leaving little darkness but a hallway free of other individuals. “No." She rolled her eyes as she turned around. “There is no one there." “We saw him!" Yuka declared, stepping up close to Eri, the two girls holding hands for strength. “He must be somewhere prowling about. I won't go back to dress. We should all go down together to listen to the speech then come up again all together." “Come on, are you children? Pull yourselves together!” Kagura said with the scowl back in place as she was reminded how close they were to the time for her to give her speech. The one she still needed to practice. “I doubt anyone's seen a ghost." “Yes, we all saw him, just now!” All the girls cried out now. “He had the mask!” “And Grandpa saw him too!” Eri added. “Only yesterday in broad daylight!” “Grandpa?” Kagura blinked before she connected the nickname. “The chorus-master?” “Yes, didn’t you know?” Yura commented this time in her superior manner, smiling at having more information than the lead dancer. “He told all of us. He was in the main office and Jaken went in. You know the short mean little imp of a man. It’s not that any of us like him, why he is allowed to hang around here I dunno, he must be a donator. Anyway, Gabriel saw the ghost appear right behind Jaken and ran off frightened out of his wits, slammed his head good not looking where he was going. Said those yellow eyes, seemed like they wanted to devour his soul right there.” “Grandpa’s pretty superstitious.” Sango pointed out knowing it was a losing battle to try to reason with them. “Everyone would do better to learn the wisdom of silence.” The new face in the door got a few shrieks and one of the girls fell back onto the couch with fright. It was Kaede. The lead teacher for all dancing and choreography at the school. “Why not talk about it?” One of the girls asked. “That’s mother’s opinion.” Sango stated, but didn’t feel bad as she’d been one of the ones not advocating the nonsense. “Why would it be her opinion?” Another spoke up curiously. “Shush!” Sango glared at them. “She says the ghost doesn’t like being talked about.” “Why would she say that!?” Eri asked curiously, starting to crowd with the other girls searching for answers from the other dancer in their midst. “Nothing.” Sango replied, frowning deeply at the sudden onslaught of estrogen. “I swore I wouldn’t tell.” Though the girls didn’t plan to leave her piece the older woman shook her head at them all. “All of you need to learn to not be so nosy, it’s unladylike. Come now, all of you need to change and allow Kagura some time before she’s due downstairs.” They all headed out with hung heads, some grumbling, others chancing more whispered questions at Sango. Who was torn over what she should even believe. Her mother had told her not to press the issue and not to talk about the ghost. But she’d seen her mother’s notes, when the diary was left open one evening. It talked about the private box reserved for a ‘mysterious benefactor’ and that she never saw anyone inside when she delivered the program but that she’d heard someone inside several times. She’d even sounded nervous about it. It was Box 5, one of the few right next to the stage on the left. It was someone’s box, it had been reserved starting a month ago when the ‘hauntings’ had begun. Sango also knew it was on continued orders never to be sold. She was starting to wonder herself if there was a ghost at their school.