Story 58
A Friend’s Sin
I have what you’d call a “spiritual sensitivity.”
Well, it’s not like I can’t tell ghosts and people apart — just that every now and then, I happen to see them.
＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊＊
A friend of mine recently bought a new car.
This time, he was switching from a compact car to a German import. It was his first foreign car, and he was really excited about it.
Apparently, because of a scheduling mistake, he had already sold his old car to a used-car dealer before the new one was ready.
So, since he had no way to get to the dealership that day, he asked me — his nearby friend — to give him a ride.
I’m not exactly busy, and since he’s my friend, I agreed without hesitation.
The weekend came — the day of the car’s delivery.
The dealership opened at ten, so we arrived right when it did, first thing in the morning.
I was planning to just drop him off and leave, but the staff member said,
“Would your friend like to come along as well?”
At first I was going to decline, but my friend insisted,
“Come on, I’ll show you my car! You’re not in a hurry, right?”
So I decided to stick around.
Everyone at the dealership was friendly, and my friend was in high spirits, chatting enthusiastically with the sales rep.
Before I knew it, I’d stayed all the way through to the end.
He’d bought a sedan — not the most popular style these days, but a cool-looking one.
It looked really nice, and I found myself staring at it longer than I meant to. The salesperson even gave me a brochure to take home.
I remember clearly — I got a good, long look at that car.
Up until that point, there was nothing strange about it.
About two weeks later.
Five of us, including that same friend, were hanging out at a nearby arcade.
I’d originally gone with the others, but since the arcade was only about three minutes from his house by car, I invited him to come join us.
When the arcade closed, we all headed out to our cars to go home.
By coincidence, my friend’s new car was parked right next to mine in the lot.
And the moment I saw it — I froze.
It was after closing, so the parking lot was almost empty.
My car on the right.
Nothing parked on the left side of my friend’s car.
But — near the left rear wheel — someone was clinging to the car.
Or rather, something that used to be a person.
A middle-aged man, wearing a business suit.
The kind of ordinary office worker you see anywhere.
My friend noticed me staring and asked,
“What’s up?”
I brushed it off.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
Since he didn’t seem to notice anything, I figured that thing wasn’t human.
And when I thought about it — how could a real person even hang on there?
There’s nowhere to grip, nowhere to put your feet.
I realized it must be a ghost.
So I decided to ignore it.
Before getting into our cars, we chatted for a bit.
He told me he’d actually scraped the car last week — even though it was brand new.
Sure enough, the left side was dented.
I said, “Tough luck,” and he laughed it off, saying he’d get it fixed once he saved up a bit.
I had a bad feeling for some reason — maybe just my spiritual sensitivity acting up, I thought. I tried to shake it off.
Still, as I drove home, I couldn’t help worrying: Was that ghost attached to his car…? Would he be okay?
Three days later, I found out how wrong I’d been to worry that way.
My friend was on the news.
He’d hit and killed a man in his 50s — and fled the scene.
Ah.
So that’s what it was.
That ghost clinging to his car…
had been following him out of hatred.
