Yukinoshita’s Method of Correction [29]

“Yukino-chan~” Yuigahama Yui pouted. “You totally knew what was going on from the start!”

“Even if I warned you now, you’d still fall for it again someday,” Yukinoshita Yukino replied, sipping her strawberry yogurt. “Sometimes, the only way to stop being tricked is to go through it yourself.”

Yuigahama stuck her tongue out at Higashigumo Sugi in frustration. “Like there are really that many weirdos out there for me to run into.”

“I told you, I only picked up the basics,” Higashigumo raised an eyebrow. “But as for advanced techniques… Give me your money, and I’ll pay you back ten percent interest every month. For every person you refer, you get an extra one percent. Bring in ten people and you’ll be earning twenty percent a month. Five months to break even, ten months to double it—invest more, earn more.”

“That actually sounds kinda—wait, you think I’d fall for that?” Yuigahama stomped her foot, indignant. “Like I’d ever trust you with something like that!”

“You don’t have to—there are plenty who would.” Higashigumo set his half-empty cola aside. “Anyway, let’s get back on track. Komachi, can you explain the film club situation?”

“The film club is basically the movie research club,” Hikigaya Komachi said as she dug a few sheets of paper out of her bag. “The more we studied movies, the more we wanted to make our own short film—plus, it’s to send off our graduating seniors.” She spread out the papers. “The story we planned is based on the escape game ‘Ao Oni.’ Here are the concept posters we designed.”

“Whoa!” Yuigahama only had to glance once before she squealed. “That’s… that’s so creepy!”

The first poster showed four people—three boys and one girl, each with different expressions. Looming behind them was a massive blue, almost navy, face.

Its eyes were frighteningly large, the pupils nearly swallowing up the whites, with just a sliver of sclera left at the edges, giving the whole thing an uncanny, disturbing look.

The blue body and oversized head were wildly out of proportion, like some monster a child might make out of playdough.

It was obvious—this was the infamous “Ao Oni.”

Yukinoshita pressed her lips together. “It’s all fake.”

“This Ao Oni,” Higashigumo said, recalling the story, “is about four students who explore an abandoned Western-style mansion rumored to be haunted by monsters. They run into the blue demon and have to fight for their lives.”

Even though it was made in RPGmaker, it could hold its own against any other survival horror game in terms of sound, atmosphere, and psychological tension.

Even now, years later, plenty of people still go back to replay it for the thrill.

The second poster was more subtle. It also featured the three boys and the girl, walking toward a Western-style mansion surrounded by dense forest.

But the shadows in the foliage were shaded deep blue, and the clever arrangement of branches and shrubs formed the outline of the Ao Oni’s face.

Looking at it, you couldn’t help but feel those four people were walking straight into the demon’s mouth.

Yukinoshita gave it a brief glance and set it aside.

The third poster—

“So cute!” Yuigahama grinned at the chibi-style characters and Ao Oni. “You drew this, didn’t you, Komachi?”

“I can’t draw at all, so this was the best I could manage,” Komachi puffed out her cheeks. “As long as Hojo and Sasaki are here, we’re good—Hojo’s the club president and our director. Sasaki does props, and he’s great at art too—he drew the first one. I’m the scriptwriter! I did the story adaptation.”

“And?” Yukinoshita nudged the posters aside. “So what’s this haunting, exactly?”

“It happened just a few days ago. Tanaka, our camera and editing guy, thought we didn’t have enough footage and went back to the school to shoot some more.” Komachi took out a handheld game console. “You’ll get it if you watch this—it’s my brother’s, so the quality’s even better.”

She cued up a video and adjusted the timeline. “It starts here.”

The three of them leaned in. The video was a little shaky—shot at dusk, with the person holding the camera aiming at another boy with a gloomy expression.

“Tanaka is filming,” Komachi explained. “And that’s Sasaki, the one I just mentioned.”

[I haven’t even gotten to know her, and you two already broke up? She used to help out all the time,] Tanaka’s voice grumbled from behind the camera. [Did you do something to make her leave?]

[Stop filming.] Sasaki pushed the camera away, voice tired. [You sticking to me just to get footage of how miserable I am? Sorry to disappoint you.]

[I just don’t want you doing anything dumb alone… Huh?] The camera jerked as Tanaka was shoved aside, but as he swung the lens back, he caught something odd. [What’s… that?]

In the footage, a bluish, almost navy sphere hovered outside the big school building.

As the camera zoomed in, the blue sphere wobbled, then rose above the tree branches and revealed a twisted face, grinning eerily at them.

The video suddenly shook, and Sasaki’s urgent voice called out: [What are you doing?! Run!]

In the chaos, someone must have hit a button, and the recording abruptly cut off.

Higashigumo felt someone tugging on his shirt. He looked down to see Yukinoshita clutching his sleeve with her small hand.

He never expected Yukinoshita Yukino to get this scared. Though, to be fair, Yuigahama already had both hands covering her eyes.

“The whole club panicked, and once other students saw it, rumors of a haunting spread through the film club,” Komachi sighed. “Nothing’s happened since, but Tanaka was really shaken. He’s the only one who knows how to do green screen effects, so the film’s progress just froze.”

“Is… is it over yet?” Yuigahama kept her hands in place. “It’s over, right?”

“It’s done,” Higashigumo reassured her. “No need to be scared.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of at all,” Yukinoshita calmly released Higashigumo’s shirt. “That was pareidolia.”

“Parei… what?” Yuigahama uncovered her eyes, blinking in confusion.

“No matter what you’re looking at, if there are three points, people will see a face. That phenomenon—where you spot faces in random, inanimate things—is called pareidolia.” Yukinoshita kept a straight face, her tone serious. “That blue sphere from the video is the same. It’s not a human face at all—we just misinterpreted it as one.”

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T/N: AO ONI!!! his butt is big

This is a fan translation of 雪之下的矫正方式 by 微凉温热 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!