What's not to like about a big house in the Japanese countryside... sure, there aren't any supermarkets nearby, but it's cheap. The Japanese being all spiritual, the house comes with the caveat of probably being haunted. Perception is truth and all that.

He was unloading his boxes from the moving van when he noticed an old woman watching him from across the road. She hobbled over on her stick. "You are living here?" she shook her head. "Bad house, spirits," she warned ominously. "Would you like green tea?"

An hour later, and after drinking way too much green tea, he returned to finish unpacking. Formalities are hard. He was unpacking in the living room when he heard footsteps padding down the hall. Must just be the wind... ghosts aren't real. Then he felt the feeling of eyes watching him. He looked towards the sliding door to see long black hair dangling down. Being a man who isn't scared by any ghost, he jumped up and grabbed the "hair". He found himself holding a weird duster thing... where did that come from? Maybe the old woman left it there.

Many hours later, he was in his futon watching ghost videos on his phone. The house was quiet save for the sway of wood in the wind... until the footsteps came back. Louder, right below him. He grabbed the only weapon near him, a lamp, and crept down stairs, careful not to slip on the slippery stairs. He rounded the corner to the kitchen. And there, standing in the fluorescent glow of the fridge light was... a ghost. The ghost turned around and locked eyes with him. "Mmmuh." She looked at the lamp in his hand and waved her hands in front of herself. "Nuh." She tried to run away but bumped into a wall, sending herself falling on her butt.