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Ghost Stories of Azusagawa Furusato Park
Azusagawa Furusato Park
Suddenly, a park appears. Deep in the mountains, in a place like this, Not a single soul is in sight. Only a spiritual aura lurks in the shadows of the trees, watching. For years now, Terrified, no one dares to draw near.
When the sun is high, No one notices. No one cares. But As the afternoon wanes, Shadows creep in with startling speed. The mountains are deep; the darkness falls early. Yet, the cold air descends even faster.
The voices of children that should be heard Do not carry at all—absolute silence. The witching hour. 6:00 PM. Something black begins to move. Those who glimpse that shadow Lose the ability to move.
They become stones of strange shapes, Permanent residents of the park.
Everyone laughs it off as mere fiction. In the daylight, you can smile. But once the sun sets, that smile freezes. You suddenly recall the tale of the defeated warriors (Ochimusha), And the story of when the villagers cornered them in the mountains.
A mountain park that appeared as if out of nowhere. The legend could not be left in the past. The promise made by the villagers— In an aging society, it can no longer be kept.
In exchange for life, Let them hear the voices of children.
Even if I take my children there, We leave by 4:00 PM. Even if we forget something, we never go back for it.
Have you ever seen the driftwood in the Azusa River? Don't you find the shapes strange? The children who managed to flee back...
The souls of children drifting toward the Sea of Japan. March. Plump firefly squid. At night, a light dwells within them.
Some people decorate their homes with driftwood from the Azusa River. Some eat firefly squid as if possessed. These are the ones who played late as children And had their souls stolen without even knowing.
The monotonous rhythm of the Matsumoto Bon-Bon dance. They continue to dance as if in a trance. The cursed midsummer nights are resurrected.
Even now, If you listen closely at night, From the park where no one should be, The voices of many children can sometimes be heard.
Kamikochi. Looking out into the mountains from a bus window, Japanese macaques occasionally peer from the shadows. Few notice that, for a fleeting moment, something that is not a monkey mingles in those dark shadows. The dusk of Kamikochi falls all at once, freezing time.
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▶【Noisia2 Version】
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