Monogatari Series - Volume 30 - Chapter 1.02

002

“Senjougahara-san? Is something up with Senjougahara-san?”

“Well, it’s not that something’s up, I’m just curious.”

“Oh?”

“Don’t you think ‘Senjougahara Hitagi’ is a weird and interesting name?”

“…You know, ‘Senjougahara’ is a place name.”

Eighteen years back in time, such a conversation took place within a classroom of Naoetsu Private High School. It would be more accurate to say that it happened nearly six years ago, when I was an eighteen-year-old third-year senior in May. Regardless, it feels like a whole eighteen years have passed.

On that day—the very day I caught my classmate falling gracefully from the staircase above—it all began.

After school, I had thrown such a question at our class president, Hanekawa Tsubasa, who knew everything.

And the response I got was this: a place name.

In other words, there is a place named Senjougahara in Japan, and at that time, in adherence to the good sense one would expect of a narrator who takes pride in promptly cutting out chit-chat that bears no relation to the main storyline, the conversation quickly progressed with utterances such as, “Ah, um, that’s not what I meant. What I was trying to say is, well, it’s about her first name.”

Now, with the passage of time, we shall deliver the director’s cut version. It is not often that a director’s cut version of a film or the like receives rave reviews, but there can be no success without challenge.

“Oh, a surname derived from a place name? That’s the first time I’ve ever heard of it. You know everything!”

“I don’t know everything, I only know what I know.”

Said Hanekawa Tsubasa, casually brushing off the remark during her glasses-wearing days, her hair in three braids—the line itself now rendered nostalgic.

Fast forward six years to the present, and she has vanished not just in name but in existence altogether. To Hanekawa, who had been constantly moving from one family household to another—her parents always somewhere else—names must have seemed more or less inconsequential from the start.

No name was ever permanent, all just transient and fleeting.

Araragi Koyomi at eighteen, just after Golden Week, may have been well aware of this, but he had not yet felt the importance of names.

“Is it like Sekigahara or Dannoura? Or perhaps, like Horagatouge?”

She interjected with an offbeat sense of appreciation.

“Mm, I think Senjougahara’s a bit different from those famous battlegrounds.”

“Really? Where is it, then?”

The young Araragi, who had yet to begin studying for his exams, did not even know the location of Sekigahara, let alone the year of the famous battle that took place there. 

“In Tochigi Prefecture.”

“Tochigi?”

Allow me to carefully insert a subtitle here: this conversation took place six years ago—or indeed eighteen—and has been recorded as is to preserve the historical context and culture of that time.

“Where is that? Within the country?”

“Would it be easier if I said Nikko?”

“Nikko…”

When uttered with such a charming smile5 (which, in human terms, would soon be followed by an encounter in the hallway with a high school girl embodying the epitome of the sarcastic tongue), the malicious air seemed to dissipate. Indeed, the young Araragi understood the reference to Nikko, but when asked where Nikko was, he was still clueless.

In fact, he seemed even more tense.

For young Araragi, who retained his vampiric nature as a consequence of his Spring Break, sunlight was a two-syllable word to be shunned. The memory was still fresh back then.

“Senjougahara is in Oku-Nikko. In the upper left part of Tochigi Prefecture on the map.”

“I remember now. Nikko, ‘If you haven’t seen Nikko, you haven’t seen anything.’”

“Yep, yep.”

Said a seemingly well-accomplished Hanekawa. Reflecting on it now, the honor student had already started to educate me since then, even with our organizing a gathering to decide on a cultural festival performance. Well, it could be considered cultural.

“It’s like seeing Naples before you die. So, what kind of battle took place in that Oku-Nikko? It looks like there’s nothing there.”

I said, eighteen years ago. Furthermore, it was the utterance of a high school student who did not fully know his age. It’s the age when one thinks they’re being sharp by disrespecting a regional city they don’t know well due to lack of information, even though their own address is quite provincial.

Nowadays, such non-compliance is unthinkable.

“No way there’s nothing there. There’s plenty. Lake Chuzenji, Kegon Falls, Futarasan Shrine, Nikko Toshogu Shrine… Nikko Toshogu Shrine is a World Heritage site.”

“Really… aren’t World Heritage sites surprisingly everywhere, though?”

Eighteen years ago, the words were spoken.

Although I am the one bringing it up now.

“There is a designated history that exists everywhere, to be carefully preserved.”

It does hold a profundity.

It’s hard to believe that this was said by a high school junior just like Araragi, eighteen years ago.

However, even if not a World Heritage site, I have definitely heard of Nikko Toshogu Shrine… Wasn’t it built by Tokugawa? Or his grandson? I’m not sure, but on this matter, there isn’t much difference between the me back then and the me now. If anything, the only distinction is that today, I am aware of the Sleeping Cat, a sculpture by the master Hidari Jingorou, in that World Heritage site.

Cat…

“Futarasan Shrine, it’s somewhat like my name, isn’t it? And Senjougahara, eh… Is that where you’re from?”

“Hmm, who knows?”

Class President evasively rubbed her shoulder, negating the vulgar and probing reiteration of her origins, a habit she maintained consistently since that time.

But at any rate, it is possible that this was her birthplace, as the story I was to hear later from Hanekawa had revealed that she lived in this town since at least junior high school.

“The battle was fought by gods.”

“Gods?!”

“The god of Mount Nantai in Tochigi Prefecture and that of Mount Akagi in Gunma Prefecture clashed.”

“Tochigi and Gunma? Those two fought?”

Let that be corrected. Even eighteen years ago, this was not an acceptable statement.

“What for?”

“Let me inform you, Araragi-kun, that there were no borders between prefectures at that time. The mountains were equivalent to the gods themselves.”

“I have heard that before… So that’s why mountains are counted as ‘seats,’ right? A place for the gods to sit… Then, in that battleground, Hachimanbara, who emerged victorious? Not that it matters.”

“Do not say it doesn’t matter.”

She chastised me, making me feel like I had been scolded by a braided, bespectacled class president from across eighteen years into the past. It was not an entirely unpleasant feeling; a sci-fi sort of feeling.

Such a figure no longer exists, however.

“From the fact that the battle had reached Hachimanbara in Tochigi Prefecture, it is evident that Gunma Prefecture had the upper hand. It was where the god of Mount Akagi had transformed into a giant centipede and launched an attack.“

“A giant centipede.”

“The battle was met by the god of Mount Nantai in the form of a snake…”

“A snake.”

“But ultimately, it was a man named Saru Maruo6 who repelled the centipede by shooting its eyes with arrows.”

“Saru, monkey…”

Of course, I don’t possess foresight, so although the snake and monkey may seem to be significant, they could simply be elements of an incredible tale that I cannot grasp entirely.

Undoubtedly, the same could be said for the giant centipede’s role in the story.

It is not hard to connect a centipede biting people with vampirism.

“In summary, the Battlefield Plain of Oku-Nikko is where those two gods clashed, which could explain the seemingly endless marshland that stretches across the horizon without anything to obstruct the view.”

“There’s nothing there, though?”

“It’s not that there’s nothing, your perception just isn’t the sole perspective. For instance, at night, as far as the eye can see…”

Stars fill the sky.

Hanekawa Tsubasa spoke as if it were her catchphrase, yet little did I know that just a month later, I would go on my first date with my first girlfriend at an observatory I knew nothing about.

“I see. That’s neat. Awesome.“

I had little to say other than lightly nodding and agreeing.

“But…”

Then, somewhat deflatedly, I tried to shift our conversation back to the topic.

“Ah, um, that’s not what I meant. What I was trying to say is, well, it’s about her first name.”