Where Lanterns Dare Not Flicker

Flash for the trash #4910

Misty, dark old Japan path

If you're riding near Okazaki… and you see a woman in white by the road, don’t stop. Don’t look at her. Just keep moving. Because in Edogawa, they say Ubume wander the highways, searching… for lost children.

It was past midnight. The highway was empty with thick fog shifting across the road like pale fingers. Takeshiro fought to stay awake after hours of a horseback ride, couriering papers to Kaganoi. His dim lantern barely shone through the mist— until a figure appeared. A lone woman, with hair covering her face, dressed in a white kimono clinging to her skeletal frame… she did not move.

Every instinct screamed to ride on. But something in him made him slow his horse down. She lifted her face. Eyes glassy, hollow tears streaming down her pale cheeks.

『私の子を….. 見ませんでしたか』　

“Have you seen….. my child?” She asked.

Takashiro’s blood turned cold. His hands shook but he eased on the reins, as if under a spell. She climbed onto the saddle without a word— her hands folded, dress soaked. The temperature around them dropped after the horse began to trot. He tried to speak, but the words were too afraid to come out. Spirits are common in these parts but Takeshiro never thought he’d run into one. A mother ghost, trapped between worlds, searched for the child she lost, wandering the land in eternal grief.

As they rode quiet sobs grew louder. Soon, her crying encompassed the whole area, threatening to deafen Takashiro. Just as he thought he couldn’t take any more, an unholy voice screamed out of the night.

『見つかった！』

“I’ve found you!”

Then… She was gone. Vanished.

No other sound. No weight. Just a wet patch of icy water where she sat. Takeshiro shivered, heart racing, as a wail echoed behind him in the fog. He sped to Kaganoi, not once looking back, and vowed never to take that route again.

And to this day, travelers warn each other— if you see the Lady in White on the Tokaido highway at night… don’t stop.

Because she’s still searching.

And she might mistake you… for her child.