Monogatari Series - Volume 21 - Chapter 0.01

Chapter Zero- Nadeko Draw

001

If the life of Sengoku Nadeko were a comic serial, I would probably think ‘that’s some inconsistent protagonist’ if I read all fifteen volumes at once.

Volume four had nothing to do with volume eight, her goals shift in god-knows-when, there exists no consistency in the narration, whether it is in first- or third-person, the styling changes all the time, no catchphrases, no regular hobbies, and last but not least, not even a fixed crush; those probably all change depending on the situation.

Such is the fate long-running series and their fans resign themselves to, or perhaps these are contradictions they revel in. But as a reader, I do not find every bit of it acceptable. So, in a certain way, if an author were to end a series before its characters go all off, it is something I can respect.

No, not ‘as a reader’. Sengoku Nadeko is not some other girl, she’s me. But it is also because of that I feel like I am someone different through different points in time. Me during then, me at that moment, me during that age, me in that era… I have never thought of them as the same person.

No matter what.

Like a mirage, it all looks unsteady.

Even in moments of self-reflection, that plain irresponsible thought of ‘but was that really me?’ would sometimes pop up. For a girl as hapless as I to have committed that heinous transgression is, in a sense, beyond my imagination.

Those acts were clearly beyond me.

But of course, it is all escapism, isn’t it.

Escapism at a hefty price, isn’t it.

An immoral, irresponsible act.

Maybe by treating past me as different from current me I am protecting myself, but in the end, it just means I cannot look myself straight in the eye. If I am treasuring current me, then I have to treasure past me in that same way — at least that is what I currently think.

The point is, when talking about how my character went off, it is unfair to only blame the sheer length of a human lifespan, or that it was a long-running series.

Surely there are inconsistencies within a single volume, of what I say and what I do. Smooth-talking someone there, smooth-talking someone here, trying to then thread everything together — but then conflicts arise. Then the lying begins, going from one episode to the next.

People call it ‘being adaptable’, ‘being versatile’.

To put it more sinisterly, ‘acting cute’.

Even without going off, to have such an irritable main character, I can understand why people would support kicking them out. It is a curse — which, in retrospect, had an inevitability to it.

An inevitable curse.

Which is probably another way of escaping it. Whether I am the one being cursed, or the one doing the cursing, it is all current me from afar.

From afar. Or from right next to me.

Maybe there was no change, no growth.

But I still cannot see past me like I see myself in the mirror. I also do not think I am that different alone than when I am with people.

Me, me, me.

Like multiple personalities.

No, I do not even know if I have as grandiose a thing as a ‘personality’, let alone a ‘multiple’ of them. It is probably difficult to find someone like me who doesn’t deserve one.

My, my.

Speaking of going off-character, a recent friend, Ononoki Yotsugi, the professional, is an expert in all this.

The doll — Ononoki Yotsugi.

She is a humanoid oddity, a puppet oddity. Easily changed by her surroundings, adapting her personality with whoever is beside her — that seems to be her true essence.

She won’t be appearing in a manga anytime soon.

People would have doubts about the author.

Which was not something she would mind, but she did say this back at that time.

And when I say ‘that time’, I of course meant the time she went off-character.

‘I think it’d be weirder if someone kept the same personality no matter when it was, where they were, or who they’re with. They’d be wanted dead, treated as some dangerous entity. All people, and even gods, will have good moods and bad moods — if they aren’t in good shape, maybe they’ll be ruder; if they were awakened by a phone call, then they’d be less attentive or enthusiastic. Maybe their condition swings depending on if it rains or shines. Maybe they’ll be forgiving of the most horrific sin imaginable when a grandchild is born. Maybe they’ll want to compensate or repent for an error they’ve made. Everybody has emotions of their own, and even if not, they have situations they find themselves in; you can’t just go through life without bobbing up and down — more than that, it’s mutual, too. If those on the receiving end weren’t listening in the first place, then any wisdom on one end would end up a wisecrack on the other. It’s not something you can get around, either; no excuses around this. It’s a fact of life we have to shoulder.’

‘We’, said the girl, the oddity; maybe current me is not so much of a human after all.

Not a surprise, really.

I say flippantly that my life is a serial, but even as I turn fifteen, it is a life that could not even make its way as a one-off. Shelved proposals littered one after the other, even today.

That was me then.

That was me at that moment.

That was me during that age.

That was me in that era.

That is me now — someone unaware, who knows no beginning, who knows no finale, the one and only Sengoku Nadeko.