A lonely ghost story from Japan

There was once a young man wandering by himself in the sun-dappled forest. He carried a bow in his hand and a quiver on his shoulder but he was not interested in hunting. He was absorbed in thinking. But not thinking anything in particular. It was one of those days when his thoughts seemed to weigh rather heavily on him, although if asked he could never say exactly what the trouble was.
Passing beneath a group of shady trees, he took a path that he did not remember noticing before, and emerged after a while into a large and beautiful clearing. In the middle of the clearing was what looked like a hunting lodge, built of wood, with shuttered windows and a wooden balcony at the front. There didn't seem to be anyone about. He called, but there was no reply. Deciding to take a closer look, he stepped up onto the balcony and approached the door, pressing his hand against it. At once it glided open and he saw the brightly shining face of a beautiful woman.
"How very strange to see you", she said. "I hardly see anybody. I live a very secluded life here in the forest". The young man was too shocked to speak. "But since you're here", she continued, "come in anyway, and I'll boil you up some tea".
The hallway led directly through to what looked like a kitchen. On either side were two plain wooden doors. She opened the door on the right and led the young man through into a sitting room. It was sparsely furnished with a low table and an old wooden chest. There were also a number of birds fluttering restlessly in little cages. She dropped some seeds into each before going to the kitchen, returning with a small pot of tea.
They talked for a long while and the conversation flowed naturally from the first, although it was hard to say exactly what it was they talked about. The young man simply had the feeling of time passing by delightfully. As the afternoon wore on, however, and he noticed the rays of the declining sun through the shutters, he said "I must have kept you for hours. Perhaps I ought to be making my way back".
"Oh no", she replied, "I was hoping you might stay to dinner. But there was something I was wondering if you could do for me".
"Anything", he said.
"I was hoping you could mind the lodge while I'm gone. I need to go away for a short while. I won't be long". She stood up and led him into the hallway. "Make yourself at home in the sitting room", she said, "or wander through into the kitchen. But there's one thing I want you to promise me".
"What's that?"
"That you won't.... You can go into any room in the lodge - but don't open this door". And she pointed to the door on the left.
"But why on earth not?" he asked, surprised.
"Because you mustn't", she replied. "I want you to promise me faithfully that you will not".
"Then I will not. Of course. Absolutely" the young man said.
She smiled and turned to leave. She had an eerily beautiful face. Stepping down onto the balcony, she walked towards the forest and was gone.
Of course the young man found this curious, and after returning to the sitting room and thinking about her beauty for a while, he began to feel strangely ill at ease. He walked back to the hallway and stood before the left hand door. It was a plain wooden door with nothing interesting about it. Nonetheless its very blankness seemed provoking. What could lie beyond it?
He had promised very faithfully not to go inside, and a promise was a promise, especially one made to such a beautiful woman. But suddenly the thought of her beauty crossed his mind like a shadow, and almost angered him. The feeling passed, and he returned to the sitting room to peer at the birds and set them aflutter by tapping their cages.
But after some minutes he returned to the hallway and stared outside. There was no sign of her returning. The left hand door caught his attention. Without thinking he placed his fingers on the handle. He snatched them away, but then slowly returned them. It was only a door after all, and he was naturally curious.
He thought of her beauty, and somewhere in his mind he felt a stab of hatred. She would never know, and he would certainly not admit it. That wouldn't stop them having a beautiful dinner that night, and him paying her elaborate compliments.
He looked outside. Again, there was no sign of her. After pausing for a while, he turned the handle.
He pushed open the door, and stepped inside.

The room was empty. He looked around - it was completely bare. Yet at the corner of his eye he caught a strange glimpse of feathers. At the edges of his hearing he had a vague sense of the fluttering of wings, and then everything seemed to vanish from around him.
He woke up to find himself lying face down and alone in a deserted field. It seemed to be the following morning. He wiped the dew from his clothes as he picked himself up. The woman, the lodge and the beautiful clearing had all disappeared, although the field he recognised. It was not far from his home. What had he done when he opened that door? And what had become of the woman? He went back in his mind over everything that had happened. He recalled it all quite clearly, and felt desolate.
And for many months afterwards he would search through the forest and try to find that shady path to the clearing. He never stopped thinking of the little wooden lodge and the beautiful woman.
He never found either again.