Monogatari Series - Volume 23 - Chapter 1.18

018

“We are in heaven, so being without clothes is more natural. It is the natural order of things—if I may be so bold as to suggest this, it would be more unnatural for me to be clothed, as you are right now, Araragi-sama. Why not undress as well?”

“Should I? All right.”

“Please do not decide to undress so readily.”

So which is it?

But it was true that, if I were to be so brazenly nude, it would make me feel wrong—but “Princess Beauty”, Princess Acerola.

I remembered.

Strictly speaking, I had never actually met this goddess before… At least not in this world, in this actual world.

I won’t exactly go into the details because it wasn’t something that actually happened, but in the period of time after I graduated from Naoetsu High and before I entered Manase University, I crossed through the looking-glass and was honored with an audience with “Princess Beauty”.

Her beauty was such that it made me want to die just by facing her—even then, we’d only spoken with a curtain between us, but I’d nearly ended up killing myself, just as the people of the kingdom she destroyed had done.

“Well… I guess you could say I am convinced. ‘Princess Beauty’… Princess Acerola, I could not possibly complain against you being a resident of heaven.”

Uh-oh. My tone of voice was already getting weird.

That made sense.

I wouldn’t be surprised if she wasn’t just a resident of heaven, but the queen of heaven.

Despite the great expanse of these plains, there was no one else in sight, so it was possible that Her Majesty had already destroyed heaven as well… Well, I was only joking, though.

Anyway, there was nothing unusual about Princess Acerola being in heaven… What was unusual was that Araragi Koyomi was here.

Just as Hachikuji and Shinobu had explicitly and implicitly asserted, I myself had decided that I would go to hell if I died—but then, what was I doing, ascending to heaven?

“That is because I invited you here, Araragi-sama.”

“Ah, I see. So it was something like that. That makes perfect sense.”

“Teehee. Oh, Araragi-sama, that wasn’t something that should’ve convinced you so quickly.”

It was a highly sophisticated retort accompanied by a pleasant laugh.

Considering she was going along with my antics, she wasn’t just beautiful and kind, but a good person as well—but, “teehee”.

It was worlds apart from that little girl who would laugh, “ka ka”.

Was this person truly the predecessor to that insolent, inhuman girl?

“…Just like how I was separated from my vampiric nature and fell to hell. Princess Acerola, six hundred years ago, when you transformed into Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade, did that beautiful soul of yours that ‘died’ end up separating and ascending to heaven?”

To force an analogy, it would be something like that.

I couldn’t tell what her expression was behind the demon mask, but the naked human body was a surprisingly eloquent thing—by moving her body, Princess Acerola affirmed my guesswork without even needing to open her mouth.

Or rather, this goddess seemed to inadvertently be posing while talking—I’d heard she didn’t like it herself, but it seemed that the unintentional beauty of her gestures had seeped into the marrow of her soul as well as the marrow of her bones.

I couldn’t lose to her.

Time for a slightly peculiar conversation.

“However, what may have been the reason for you to so graciously invite a humble person such as myself to this place…”

“…It seems the demon mask isn’t enough. Araragi-sama, please lend me your shoes.”

“Okay. As you wish.”

Princess Acerola took the sneakers that I respectfully offered her and put them on her feet… The naked beauty was wearing men’s sneakers with a demon mask equipped.

That slight hint of discomfort brought me back to my senses.

Suddenly [俄] brought me back to myself [我].9

Considering the addition of that “person” radical, it was a scene that made me wonder about my status as a person.

At the very least, I didn’t think heaven would grant me a visa.

“Why did you call me to heaven, Princess Acerola? I needed to visit the Blood Pond Hell to get its water, that is, its blood…”

“Instead of discussing such things, please forget everything and come with me, Araragi-sama. This is a recreation of my birthplace.”

She was a good person, but she truly was a princess, going on at her own pace… She entered into a review of the landscape.

A beautiful princess’s review of a beautiful landscape.

“My birthplace happens to be the first of many countries that I brought to ruin.”

“……”

Countries.

The first of many—it was a weighty statement.

And, as a siren-like beauty, she was the first, and most likely, the last.

“I am not sure how to respond to that qualification. I may have to resign myself to it—not to mention, it’s possible that someone among your friends could become something similar in the future.”

Hm? Who could she be talking about?

If it’s one of my friends with influence on the level of countries, then I can only think of Hanekawa…

“…I’m not sure if the idea of a country being destroyed by beauty really makes sense to me… Princess Acerola, are you sure those countries weren’t destined for ruin anyway, even without you there?”

It may have sounded like I wasn’t really thinking about it, but I couldn’t keep quiet about it… There was no need to take on everything as her own responsibility—as unlimited liability.

This didn’t have to do with the girls’ basketball team’s collective responsibility, but the princess’s back was far too dainty to bear the burden of all that—however, dainty as it was, it was by no means so frail that it would break if you touched it.

I knew that very well, because she was naked.

You could tell, that back was very robust.

“Even the prosperous inevitably decay. No, every beautiful thing will die someday—is that what you wish to tell me? Araragi-sama. If that’s the case, I must say that I have been too greedy in obtaining eternity by having my blood sucked by Suicidemaster.”

Princess Acerola’s shoulders drooped. Her beautiful shoulders.

That’s right—the legend of Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster that Shinobu had told me had been quite biased, and although she had told me this and that, on and off, about the vampire’s character, she had barely touched upon the specifics of how “Princess Beauty” had become “Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade”—how “Princess Beauty” had become the “iron-blooded, hot-blooded, cold-blooded vampire”.

Did she perhaps do that on purpose?

Or maybe she forgot about it because it was six hundred years ago—normally, an event so important would never be forgotten, so it would usually be interpreted as her just being reluctant to speak of it… But this was Shinobu, after all, so forgetting about it was totally possible.

She was so lax that she may have forgotten that she was once human, over the course of that long life of hers—after seeing me wishing to become human again, she’d said it had reminded her of something she hadn’t thought about in a long time.

…I wonder what she was like back then?

I’d heard of the story when Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade had been enshrined as a god, just as Hachikuji was now and Sengoku had once been in the past—and when she gave that up and continued to be a demon. But what state of mind had she been in when she turned from a human into a vampire?

Had she ever thought that she wanted to be human again?

Or perhaps—had she quickly forgotten about when she was human?

As I’d mentioned earlier, I had to finish my business quickly and come back to life, so I didn’t have time for a picnic with a naked beauty. But seeing as I’d suddenly gotten the chance to have a question-and-answer session, I couldn’t help but want to ask a whole bunch of things.

For now, I’ll try asking one thing. The most important of them all.

“Excuse me. If you do not mind, would you please deign to inform me of the size of that ample bosom of yours? Ah, this isn’t for anything indecent. I simply wanted to bequeath to you a gift of lingerie.”

“Araragi-sama. Asking that of a woman you’ve just met is not exactly praiseworthy. I do have the awareness that it was just a joke to lighten the mood, but I think you should refrain from saying things you will regret ten or even twenty years later.”

She reprimanded me normally. Reprimanded by a princess. A naked princess.

When in front of a princess at the level that could make me kill myself due to being made aware of my own diminutiveness, it was less a joke to lighten the mood and more a technique for my own survival—however, I’m probably the only person that would take care to not kill themselves while in heaven.

“I—regretted it. The fact that I lived.”

“……”

“I should have died. Before I even met Suicidemaster.”

At first, I thought that she meant that she didn’t want to be a vampire, that she wished to be human again, just like me. But when she continued, I realized that she meant the exact opposite.

“For that reason, I ended up placing a heavy, heavy burden on Suicidemaster.”

This princess. She didn’t regret having her blood be sucked.

She regretted making her suck her blood.

To this day, not a day has gone by that I haven’t regretted my spring break when I was seventeen, when I helped and fought against vampires. But I don’t think I had ever regretted it in the same way she did.

“And so—even while I knew it was an outrageous act, I couldn’t help but pull you up as you were about to go to hell for her.”

It seemed the conversation had circled back around.

Well, for a princess who is not only beautiful in appearance but beautiful in mentality, she surely would not display any self-centered conversation skills, even if she did go at her own pace.

“If the me that has become your partner, the me that you know, has forgotten all about the me that is right here, then that is not because the six hundred long years of her life has worn those memories away, but because she hated me, hated me to the point that it couldn’t be helped.”

“…Is that also regret?”

No.

She’d avoided even regret itself.

That’s why—she made it as if it never happened.

She’d convinced herself that she’d been a born vampire.

If she was a vampire with the astonishing technique of physically tinkering with her brain to recover lost memories, then perhaps even the opposite was possible.

“Indeed. What I regretted, filling myself with regret to the point that I might burst, was not that I had become a vampire, but that I had been a human before that. That I had been a princess—that I had been myself.”

“To the point that that chest of yours might burst—”

“Araragi-sama.”

She stopped me just by calling my name—it seemed that even these rude jokes might end with me killing myself.

Now that I was in my first year of college, I wouldn’t do anything let get flustered by the naked bodies of women, but at the same time, it felt like it would be even ruder to be all composed and unwavering in front of a nude woman behaving in a dignified manner.

It seemed to me like my etiquette as a gentleman was being tested.

“And so, that must be why I was separated from my soul, and this half-baked soul of mine was sent to heaven—a fitting punishment for me.”

A soul where even heaven was punishment.

It was difficult for the average person to understand that feeling, but it seemed that, just as Oshino Shinobu and I held an inseparable bond, so did Princess Acerola and Suicidemaster—so much so that they had to be separated.

When Shinobu had been reminiscing, she’d spoken of her master with such ease that it was hard to believe that they held such a fierce relationship, as if she was like a college student talking about a senior from her hometown (a common occurrence—how envious)—so, essentially, she’d forgotten why she forgot, and she’d forgotten why she wanted to forget, forgetting everything altogether.

It sounded stupid when I put it like that, but when I saw the separated Princess Acerola in front of me like this, it wasn’t a laughing matter.

“I’m sure you are here because you’ve accepted it, and I don’t have the intention, nor the qualification, to console you, but isn’t that something you shouldn’t be worrying about…? Because, after all, vampires are destined to suck blood—”

“I can say this only because I have been a vampire myself, but a vampire sucking blood does have a different nuance than, say, Mr. Lion or Mr. Bear attacking humans.”

Mr. Lion or Mr. Bear?

Why was she acting like a fairytale princess for children for just that?

“I think it is unreasonable to talk about vampires who prey on humans in the same vein as carnivorous animals. Though I am glad to hear you say such words.”

“No… I’m sorry that words are all I have.”

No, maybe I’d said too much.

It was possible that I really didn’t have the intention of consoling Princess Acerola, and while I was acting like I was talking to her, I was really talking to myself.

It wasn’t something to worry about.

But I should still worry about it. For the rest of my life. Or perhaps, for eternity.

“However,”

said Princess Acerola.

“If those points are to be considered similar—then it would mean that I had ended up changing the ecosystem of endangered animals. And that is, perhaps, an even greater sin.”

“……?”

What did she mean by that? Ecosystem?

Before I could question the meaning of that monologue (which I couldn’t just let pass, seeing as I was more or less majoring in the sciences), she continued. “It may be too late now, but I want to help Suicidemaster, even if it means protecting an endangered species,” she declared.

She declared, beautifully.

“That will not lessen the weight of my sin, and it is possible it will only lead to my regrets worsening even further. But even so, I intend to do what I have to do.”

What she has to do.

What she has to regret.

“I can no longer turn a blind eye to the present situation, and leave Suicidemaster in the state she’s in.”

The naked little girl.

Well, the nakedness wasn’t relevant—the mummified little girl.

The mummy that had dried up so much—it was hard to even look at.

“—Basically, Princess, it wasn’t that you were trying to prevent me from visiting hell in search of a cure, but that you saw me about to descend into hell, and thought, ‘He isn’t that bad of a person.’ And then you pulled me up for the sake of saving Miss Suicidemaster, right?”

“Yes. I truly do not believe you are that bad of a person, Araragi-sama.”

Even her honesty had a virtuous beauty to it.

It was to the point that I wanted to introduce her to the members of the Pretty Boy Detective Club, whom I had befriended the other day.

“If I were your friend, I think I would recommend that you take a leisurely trip to hell at another opportunity.”

If the princess who destroyed countries was going to recommend a vacation like that, then it seemed I would have to reevaluate the way I lived. But in that case, I would gratefully accept her support.

If I could, I would even borrow the help of a cat (though the Araragi style of doing things was “I would borrow specifically the help of a cat”), but if it was the princess herself offering her hand, then I couldn’t not kneel down and kiss her.

“You said this was a recreation of your birthplace, Princess Acerola—um, can I find a Blood Pond Hell in heaven, too? Somewhere that’s fairly close by, and easy to procure from—”

“There is no Blood Pond Hell in heaven. There is none in this world, in the same way there is no place here where either me or Araragi-sama can belong.”

I was told something pretty terrible.

But, well, of course… In that case, it would be the Blood Pond Heaven. I couldn’t help but imagine a Blood Pond Heaven as something sumptuous and immoral.

It didn’t seem heaven-like.

So, if she didn’t invite me to a haven where I didn’t belong to recommend a cheaper generic drug with the same effectiveness but at a lower price…

“Could it possibly be that we were off the mark this whole time? Are you warning me that ladling out a cup of medicine from the Blood Pond Hell won’t be the wonder drug to revive Miss Suicidemaster like we were thinking?”

Well, it wasn’t the kind of treatment you’d find in a “Family Medicine” book… It had been a suggestion from none other than Hachikuji Mayoi, not only a god, but also someone who had had experience in hell.

To put it one way, it was like folklore that had been thought up by folklore; to put it another way, I may as well have been trying to go to hell to pray for rain.

Like a meaningless sacrifice, or a sacrifice chosen by lottery…

“No, no, it is not like that at all. As a treatment for Suicidemaster in that state… Yes, it would be Ultra-C.”

She’d worded things in a way a youngster like me would get… Unfortunately, there was a significant margin of error, but I was glad for her concern.

“The Blood Pond Hell, a soup simmered with the karma of people, can act as a health drink not just for Suicidemaster, but for any vampire in the world… However.”

That person surely will not drink it.

She surely will not accept it.

That was what Princess Acerola asserted.

“Because she’s a gourmet. An epicure, and a high-class one, at that—she will never consume anything that doesn’t go along with what she wants.”

When she said that, I remembered what Shinobu had told me about Suicidemaster’s personality.

She would only eat the lives of whoever she killed herself.

In that way, she was quite the stoic vampire.

“The Blood Pond Hell, if you will, is a buffet of sorts, filled with the blood of people in every possible variation. Do you like buffets, Araragi-sama?”

“Huh? Well, I guess.”

The buffets that I was familiar with were mainly the sweets buffets that I was taken to by my girlfriend, but the glamorous party-like atmosphere was very exciting.

In that case, perhaps I could expect a similar sort of placebo effect from the Blood Pond Hell—however.

“Deathtopia Virtuoso Suicidemaster prefers service a la carte,”

said Princess Acerola, continuing the analogy.

“The idea of that new god was rather flexible, and I would value it as rather original. However, in this world, there are some patients that refuse to accept rational treatment—there are some that refuse to even see a doctor.”

People that wanted to die naturally, huh.

They didn’t want to live long to the point of defying their fate—well, that also concerned the matter of euthanasia or death with dignity, so it wasn’t something that a youngster like me could talk about lightly. But there were certainly people that thought that way.

“A youngster, you say? Please don’t abandon that thought, and keep thinking about it. You already have the right to vote, after all.”

And why are you so knowledgeable about the state of Japanese politics?

Is everything we do, including right now, completely transparent to heaven? In that case, does that mean that the princess knows the truth behind this incident?—I nonchalantly tried to fish for information.

“If Miss Suicidemaster is such a gourmet, or rather, such a picky eater—then she’s likely to be biased towards the targets she attacks as a vampire, right?”

For example, high school girls. More specifically, the members of a high school girls’ basketball team.

“I would like to ask you not to probe for information. The fact that I could arrange this point of contact with you is not exactly commendable in itself.”

Oof. It was a little hard to press for information if she told me that directly.

Or rather, I was pretty embarrassed that she’d figured out I was trying to probe for information.

“No matter what, I will always be on the side of Suicidemaster. It is like testimony from a family member—please consider my words to be unreliable.”

“……”

“However, it is not that I know everything about this, either… The only advice that I can give you, Araragi-sama, is that if you wish to obtain the wonder drug that will become the nectar for Suicidemaster, then instead of getting it from a drink bar with variations of blood, you should extract that blood from someone that has been carefully selected.”

For example.

For example, the blood of someone like me.

With that, “Princess Beauty”, the completely nude princess, raised a hand to the demon mask upon her face.

Huh? Was she going to take it off?

Why now?

“Please close your eyes.”

Being asked to do so, I finally (even though it should have been the first thing I did when I saw an adult woman in the nude) closed my eyes.

Because of her brilliance, an ordinary person would be blinded if they looked directly upon her countenance—that was how dangerous it was to look upon the beauty of “Princess Beauty”.

She knew that from the very beginning.

That’s why, even in heaven where exposing your body was the basis and nudity was the dress code, she appeared before me wearing a demon mask—so then, why was she suddenly trying to take off the mask now, without any context?

“That is, of course,” the princess said.

I couldn’t tell because I’d already shut my eyes, but she must have already taken off her mask, for the sound of her voice had become even more beautiful—that muffled sound that came from behind the mask was gone.

And that voice was extremely close.

I had no idea when she had gotten that close, to the point that I could feel her breath.

That beautiful voice was coming from a distance where our lips were almost touching each other. 

“If I am still wearing a mask, then I cannot place my lips on top of yours.”

“Wha?”

“That was the reason why I asked you to close your eyes—”

I didn’t understand what Princess Acerola meant when she spoke to me in an admonishing way, and when I opened my mouth to ask what she actually meant.

She shut me up with a kiss.