Monogatari Series - Volume 30 - Chapter 1.12

012

Urban legends. Street gossip. Rumors in the wind.

Be it ghost tales or horror stories, at their core, they are all experiences of terror. I, Araragi Koyomi, might be a bit brazen in saying so myself, but I’ve accumulated quite the career in experiencing each of them. 

It all began long ago with a hellish spring break where I discovered a peerless beauty missing her limbs in a back alley. Since then, I’d been split in half by a cat, beaten by a monkey, coiled by a snake, fawned over by a corpse doll, and almost swallowed by darkness. 

The list goes on, without end.

Yet, even when compared to those horrifying encounters, my current experience was unparalleled—on my way to the Killing Stone. 

It was unbelievably dark.

It was darker than the darkness that threatened to swallow me.

As I had told Hitagi, I let Shinobu drink my blood to enhance her vampirism at the campsite, and despite bolstering my physical strength, particularly my vision, it was still so dark that I could hardly see.

It was not the broken stone’s magic.

Simply the absence of electric light at the historic site, and by this I came to realize just how dependent humans are on the Master Inventor Edison. The old saying, “an inch ahead is total darkness,” couldn’t be more apt, as in the dim light of my smartphone, serving as a makeshift lantern, I gingerly and cautiously moved forward. Though I had planned to briefly check the place and quickly return to the campsite, my pace had slowed considerably once I arrived here.

I couldn’t walk without scuffing the soles of my shoes, always dragging my feet.

Nature’s starlight could have sufficed, but I didn’t have that. The moment I left the tent, Hitagi had matter-of-factly warned me:

“Since the main event of stargazing is tomorrow, try not to look up at the sky today. I’ll be doing the same.”

My newlywed wife casually made such an outrageous request. I knew it was just a case of her worrying too much—the past her would have blindfolded me and taken me on a short drive. Instead, she had driven me to heart of the Killing Stone area in a rented minivan. The sky had transformed instantly and became completely overcast as soon as we disembarked in the parking lot.

Whatever happened to the divine grace of Hachikuji Daimyoujin?

“Expect anything, master. Even with my vision—and by that, I mean the undifferentiated vision of a young girl—I cannot see through this darkness.”

Shinobu, who had emerged from the shadows, spoke as she walked beside me. If we didn’t hold hands, we’d have lost sight of each other.

The fact that I was almost completely blinded reminded me of the Blind Snake Stone in this park alongside the Killing Stone, which Chief Kouga had instructed me about. And as the legend goes, or not necessarily because of it, there was a strong pungent smell.

Was it the smell of rotten eggs?

As someone who hardly ever cooks, I had never smelled a rotten egg—the legend of the Blind Snake Stone, by the way, goes as follows.

One day, a man saw a blind snake struggling and decided to make a nest for it out of pampas grass. In return, the snake made plenty of hot springs well up in that area—unlike the snake I know, this snake was a good one.

Just the fact that it didn’t come to kill humans made it a good snake, but what’s more, it was even repaying a favor. I’d love to make a nest for such a snake.

But, having only dabbled in internet knowledge, I hadn’t grasped what a yunohana (hot spring flower) really was—I thought it was a real flower. But now, I understood that it was something like a sulfur crystal.

I wasn’t like Oshino, but I recognized the importance of fieldwork—well, it would have sufficed to have been more diligent and intensively researched yunohana as a keyword. But even so, this pungent odor that hit me squarely in the nose could only have been experienced firsthand.

It wasn’t something you could simply sniff out.

I shouldn’t be saying this so close to an onsen shrine, but as a university student, I had never been one for venturing to hidden hot springs, and the unfamiliar smell was pretty unsettling. It felt as if my vision had been stolen, as well as my sense of smell. 

Hmm.

Too late now, but I definitely should have come here in daytime. My sense of convenience had taken precedence, and I had found myself here alone at night—an irreparable mistake. Shinobu had warned me that anything could happen, and now it seems I’d put myself in a position where it was more likely to.

The site itself was open 24 hours a day, but there was not a soul in sight, not even a hint of an insect.

On this late-night excursion, Kanbaru had also offered, “Maybe I can be of some help, so should we go together, Araragi-senpai?”

But I felt it was better to decline. The me of today, past my prime, was no longer capable of protecting someone else while fighting. I could barely protect my own and a little girl’s life.

As for Hitagi, she was holed up in her tent, determined not to look up at the sky before the real deal, and was apparently planning to devote herself to her trading business using all the latest electronic gadgets I had never seen before.

No sooner had my wife withdrawn than this weather began…

Could she be the Sun Goddess Amaterasu?

Anyhow, it seems that both of us were the type to bring work along on our honeymoon. Well, the world of investing was such that you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen even for a single day—or not even a single second. That said, I’m sure her junior—no, my friend Kanbaru, who had been in her life longer than me, would be in the middle of a belated bachelorette party right about now. 

I had never had any friends to throw such a party for me, either in Japan or the US… the meaning of being single was different for us.

In high school, I used to boast that making friends would only weaken me as a human, but looking at Kanbaru, who went out for BBQs every week, I couldn’t help but think that those who could make friends were strong at a fundamental level.

The more I became a part of society, the more I felt this to be true.

I wanted to return to the days when I believed that having no friends held value, but maybe Hanekawa had already realized this that spring break… in this sense, she had become far too intense after graduation. 

As is apparent from the fact that she managed to win over a guy like me, the former class president was more suited to making friends than to creating organizations.

In both a good and a bad sense. 

Her intensity as a human increased.

But she’d lost her human touch. 

“…Phew.”

In any case, remembering Hanekawa for a little helped me collect my thoughts. It was like my routine; whenever I felt shaken or even scared, I thought about Hanekawa.

That would instantly calm me down.

Relax; just darkness.

This wasn’t some dramatic turn of events where I’d sense spiritual energy or be possessed by a supernatural creature… Though there were no people around, I was simply walking across a wooden bridge set up over a rocky area—in a hot spring resort?

It was a man-made bridge.

In other words, even without a single person around, human hands were still present—it was a normal tourist spot, after all. This place was atop a mountain that could be reached by a one-hour bus ride from the bullet train station—what would it do if I myself became the origin of a rumor?

I guess I’d better watch my step so that I don’t stumble.

On the way here, I had stumbled upon countless posters that depicted cute versions of the nine-tailed fox and Tamamo-no-Mae. Much like vampires, shape-shifting foxes had already become a part of human economic activity—don’t be scared, this darkness was no different than walking with eyes closed.

Rather, I turned off the light on my smartphone and immersed myself in true darkness before resuming my steps.

“Well, you may think this to be cool of you, but ‘tis seriously dangerous. Crossing a bridge all casual-like, and then stepping off the edge is no joke—you’ll be injuring yourself. There’s not a single stalk of grass beneath the bridge in this rocky place, master.”

“As an investigator for the Hearsay Department, I can’t always afford to play it safe. If anything, finishing up the sightseeing without incident is the best way to dispel the rumor.”

“Aye, I see. I shall not meddle in your work matters.”

“What the hell. Aren’t you more than eager to butt in about everything else? Are you still sulking over not getting to join us for the barbecue?”

“Sulking? Nay, well—” 

‘Tis not entirely untrue, I suppose, Shinobu said somewhat hesitantly, her words lacking their usual sharpness—a peculiar display for a former vampire with razor-sharp fangs that could pierce through my neck in an instant.  

I couldn’t quite put my finger on what she was getting at, so I decided to express my gratitude before I forgot. “By the way, you were a big help.”

I did have a childhood friend with whom our relationship had remained sour for almost two decades simply due to my forgetfulness in saying thanks.

“What are you referring to?”

“We didn’t even talk about how it’d all go, but you were, how do I put this, very humble towards Hitagi. That, right there, was the mark of a six-hundred-year-old adult. I never imagined you’d support Hitagi like that, and I’m really glad that your first meeting managed to avoid a worst-case scenario-like conflict.”

The topic might have been rather personal and serious for casual conversation, but there was no need to continue delving into scary stories in such a foreboding place. This was one of the rare moments in this group trip when just the two of us could talk. So I figured we should face it head-on.

We had just barely seen a sign saying it was 240 meters to the Killing Stone, but honestly, it felt more like two kilometers. Maybe even as far as the moon.

“Hmph. Well, ‘tis only reasonable. Seeing as the lady in question is to be your partner, as a slave to you, she holds an equivalent level of power over me, as a master.”

“So you’re ranking us, like a pack of dogs…”

Not the best image to go by, but then… Where would my friend and my wife’s junior, Kanbaru, fit in the pecking order?

“I did have that one squabble with the monkey girl, and she did best me in the end. In a way, she may even be above you, master.”

“Above me, huh…? Looks like the relationship chart’s shaping up just as I imagined.”

A pyramid relationship chart it was.

Then, who was at the top? Gaen-san? No, maybe the nominator, Oshino?

“Specialists would be at the bottom—those lowly creatures failed to kill me even after centuries of trying.”

“I mean, there’s a difference between them. Gaen-san and Oshino wanted fo coexist, didn’t they? It was the vampire hunters like Dramaturgy who were really aggressive toward you.”

I was the one who had to fight them, though.

They were formidable opponents that I can’t imagine ever looking down on. Even knowing that those battles have shaped who I am today, I would never wish to face them again.

Wait, huh.

“Aye, regardless of the past, there’s no question that I’m at the bottom now—a powerless young lass. And this feels rather comforting.”

“Does it really?”

“Indeed—I feel much more at ease now than when I was being constantly challenged. In fact, I had almost forgotten until I talked to Death, but I became a vampire to rid myself of my charm in the first place.”

I recalled hearing that, as a matter of fact.

In an ancient European castle, or maybe in the mirror world. 

I suppose becoming a vampire was precisely for the sake of forgetting that gift. Though her past before becoming a vampire seemed far more monstrous, the tale of “Princess Beauty” was magnificent. 

To think that names like Lola or Acerola would be unimaginable to Shinobu now was far from a joke—her beauty brought destruction to entire nations. It was no laughing matter.

Even a careless, aesthetically-challenged man like me couldn’t help but desire to eviscerate myself when facing “her.” 

There was a time when Hanekawa had insinuated as much, but it seemed fitting that during her time as Kiss-Shot Acerola-Orion Heart-Under-Blade, she had never used her innate vampire charm skill. Considering the secret of her birth, maybe it was for the best.

“If you had been able to use your Charm, you probably wouldn’t have been chased about so much. It’s funny how things don’t always go as planned, huh?”

“I’d say things actually turned out quite well. Just by not bringing about the end of the world, and by living such a long, frugal life until I met you, it seems fortuitous, no?”

It may have been a long life, but it was only frugal in recent years—to say I wasn’t happy to hear her say that would be a lie. Although it’s hard to believe my actions during spring break were flawless and the best—Hmm?

Something’s been bothering me for a while now.

Had my thinking become dull in the darkness?

Or had it become more sharp and sensitive? Unable to reach an answer to this plaguing question, I decided to share my vexation with her.

“But Shinobu, I think calling yourself a slave or the lowest of the low won’t be well-received in these modern times. Self-deprecation as a form of humor is losing its appeal. When you speak poorly of yourself like that, you might be insulting others who’re struggling under similar circumstances, even if you don’t mean to. It’s like if I were to say, ‘Oh no, becoming an FBI agent is no big deal, totally normal, really.’ In doing so, I’d end up dishonoring my colleagues who are keeping my back.”

“Need not keep your back, you are more likely to be shot right in the face.”

Maybe it wasn’t the best analogy.

A better one might be: if someone like me, who has no friends, constantly bemoans not having any, it might look as if not having friends is an absolute evil. Thus, inadvertently attacking everyone who has no friends—something like that.

Not like that was a great analogy either.

It’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard.

But I don’t know, I’d prefer it if I had no friends and wasn’t allowed to complain about it… It’d still be better than the days when I was an asshole distancing myself from people.

“Fret not, master. No one else is like me—a vampire who has fallen into the role of a perverse lolicon’s slave.”

“Shinobu-san, being a lolicon is a no-go. An absolute no-go. It’s not about the times; it’s about a twenty-four-year-old being called a lolicon.” 

“I believe it would have been inappropriate even for a high school student.”

“Not even gods can look like fifth-graders anymore. You never know how long you can remain a little girl.” 

“Hmm. So, is your proposal to legally adopt me and thereby legalize the arrangement? What a wicked idea.”

No, that absolutely wasn’t my intention… But in the course of having many conversations with many people, things got tangled.

Fundamentally, though, the issue at hand stemmed from the realization that I couldn’t permanently put Shinobu’s problems on the back burner as I build a life with Hitagi.

“I feel it’s better to keep me on the back burner. Certainly better than being hung out to dry. The idea of turning me into Araragi Shinobu hardly has any meaning, as it were.”

“Why? If there’s even a hint of meaning to it, then there must be a point, right? Position-wise, it’d be better to raise you from the lowest level of slave. From what I’ve heard so far, your self-esteem is way too low.”

If I had to describe it in terms of feeling, it might be akin to a fast-footed track team member who can’t get serious about competing in school marathon events and ends up walking at the back of the pack. Like getting rusty when participating in general races, I guess.

While that may have been fine if it was just between me and her, once we became a trio, we couldn’t keep saying the same… And I doubt Hitagi would want a child slave.

“I wonder if she would want an adopted daughter, or if the tsundere girl—err, the lady of the house—even desires to become a mother in the first place.”

It wasn’t the kind of question a little girl would ask, but it was a sensitive topic even for an adopted child. I had never had this conversation before—let alone posed this question to Hitagi.

Hitagi’s enmity with her mother ran incredibly deep, and it’s hard to say that I fully comprehended the complex feelings she harbored toward the concept of motherhood.

In any case.

Senjougahara Hitagi went to great lengths to sever her ties with her mother. She even wished for and subsequently lost almost all her body weight. It was this mysterious—this complex turn of events that led to our fateful encounter. While it may be unwise to make a sweeping judgment on this, there was a primitive, skeptical aspect to viewing it all from a future perspective. In the end, it remains uncertain whether Senjougahara Hitagi’s recovery of memories of her mother was for the better or worse. This question seemed even more mysterious than the supernatural.

When I was eighteen, I remember Oshino saying something that I couldn’t quite grasp nor even pretend to understand. As I approached the age that Oshino was back then, in other words, as I became an adult, I began to comprehend, if only slightly, what he was trying to convey.

Adults remain adults.

Parents remain parents.

While Senjougahara Hitagi plead to the crab, she also had another option, to plea to the crab or not—to sever her ties with her mother. This option, even if seemingly non-existent, it was there for her to take.

Much like an aberration or perhaps a god.

It was a choice she could have made.

Senjougahara Hitagi said with tears in her eyes that it was something she had to bear, something she could not forget, but looking back on it now, it was not something she had to bear at all, and if she could forget it, she would have been happier at least.

If asked whether forgetting everything, like Hanekawa, would bring happiness, I would say that’s not quite right. But, it did not mean that “Senjougahara Hitagi” was the right answer either.

Just as adults will only ever be adults.

Children will only ever be children, nothing more—it was too much to bear and too deeply etched within her.

“In reality, she couldn’t have managed a normal life with her debilitating disease of losing her weight. Maybe she couldn’t have gone to university or worked for a foreign firm. So all she could do was remember, but I wonder what decision she would make today, with the person she’s become.”

“Whether she would make the decision an adult would? Had you done this to me, at the very least, I wouldn’t be here like this.” 

“I’ve said before that even now: I still think that was the only choice I could’ve made with you back then. I can’t just ignore the plight of a beautiful woman missing her limbs.”

Perhaps it’s even more true now that I’ve come of age. On top of my original, irrepressible personality, there was a sense of professional duty.

I was a servant not only in spirit but also in profession.

In the same vein, if I were to come across a high school girl struggling with her relationship with her mother, my first thought would now be to protect her. Regardless of whether or not I should step in, just as I did back in high school.

With my shoes off, if not barefoot.

“Kanbaru was once rejected by Senjougahara Hitagi… But now, as an aspiring doctor, another course of action, another development might be possible. I think even back then, Hitagi trusted doctors and nurses…”

“If that monkey girl had found me, what would’ve become of me?”

“With your limbs torn as they were, you would’ve been deemed an incurable patient and subjected to that ‘triage’ she talked about.”

It was by no means limited to Kanbaru. 

What if someone other than myself had encountered the vampire on the brink of death? It was hard to imagine anyone else making the same foolish yet honest choice as me, at least not any typical adult.

“Y’know, originally, Hanekawa was the one who wanted to meet a vampire. If she had given her blood to you…”

“The world would have perished.”

As lightly as she said it, we’d borne witness to a similar outcome in a parallel world—if the fully-powered Kiss-Shot Acerola-Orion Heart-Under-Blade and an equally powerful Hanekawa Tsubasa had formed a master-servant bond, one or two worlds wouldn’t be enough. Hundreds, if not thousands of worlds would perish. Their terrorizing “what-if” would pose a threat to the extinction of every parallel universe.

I wonder if this world, too, can remain safe forever.

“If it were Senjougahara Hitagi then? I think back in spring break, after she broke ties with Kanbaru and left Oikura’s protection, she’d have been at her sharpest…”

Still, was it my partiality to my dear wife that I thought she wouldn’t have abandoned a dying beauty?

“Perhaps, perhaps not  If she were still as cold as ever, then we may have forged a strong partnership, excluding the cat girl, of course.”

However.

That would only hold true if the lady were to become a full-fledged vampire—she said, and then, Shinobu stopped in her tracks.

At first, I wondered why, but it seemed that while talking, we had arrived at the place where the Killing Stone was supposedly exhibited—nay, it couldn’t be called an exhibit at all.

The stone simply sat there.

As it had for ages—eight hundred long years.

Just as the signboard of “240 meters ahead” had promised, it seemed we had finally reached our goal. One more step, and we were walking in complete darkness, taking a great leap of courage.

In my night vision mode, I was barely able to see it. There was no guide present, nor any illumination, so it was difficult to be certain.

There was at least a sign that read “Killing Stone,” but still.

“There’s no mistake. The ominous aura oozes from this broken stone.”

“But isn’t that just… the sulfur?”

According to Chief Kouga, the ill health and even death of small animals around the stone was not caused by some supernatural being, but by the sulfur being emitted.

In fact, as far as my night vision allowed me to see, I found only the desolated slabs of rock. And as Shinobu mentioned earlier, not a single stalk of grass in sight.

Although, like the legend of the Blind Snake Stone, the sulfur itself could be considered the product of an aberration. But at the end of the day, a stone is just a stone—or at least, that’s what my high school experience would have had me believe. Then again, wasn’t I the one who had made an ordinary rock the protagonist of a horror tale?

“This is more than a mere pebble produced by you, master. This, here, is a genuine, certified Killing Stone. Left abandoned on this gloomy mountain, with a name you cannot help but be haunted by: Killing Stone.”

And she had a point. It may be personal bias, but the name Killing Stone had a greater impact on me than the nine-tailed fox or Tamamo-no-Mae. Because it contained the word “kill,” it even surpassed my predecessor Seishirou in its might. Come to think of it, I could almost feel the aura myself.

Could it really be that such a perfectly split stone was a natural occurrence? It almost appeared to have been cleanly cleaved by a mighty sword. But damn, the darkness made it near impossible to discern the scale of the thing.

It seemed at once both smaller and larger than I had imagined—either way, it threatened to swallow me whole.

On the other hand, no matter how perfect and idyllic the future Gaen-san may have envisioned, Nasu Town in Tochigi Prefecture lay beyond the jurisdiction of Naoetsu Police.

So, with a trembling heart, I carefully approached the historical site of the Killing Stone in the still of night. But to the locals, I was the suspicious outsider.

It might seem like I’d ventured across an ancient European castle, what with the way I’d been acting, but I just needed to backtrack a little and I’d find myself in a perfectly common residential neighborhood. It would be the worst if, instead of the stone, I were to become an urban legend.

So, I couldn’t possibly commit the vandalism of climbing over a fence installed for safety and approach the Killing Stone. As a cop, I couldn’t enter a restricted area without a warrant. Well, looking closely at the fence, there was a sign posted on it saying, “Please keep away for safety. Sulfur gas is present,” which also made me hesitate.

“Ah, that might be a problem. I was hoping to bring back a tale about how the Killing Stone cracked but the nine-tailed fox didn’t revive to my colleagues. But I might end up bringing back a horror story instead now.”

So far, all I’ve known on this detour is fear. If I were to return to the campsite as is, I would definitely end up telling those two a souvenir story of how incredibly scared I was. As it stands, the already venerable and well-established rumor would be in danger of being officially endorsed by public institutions, and it would be unimaginable if rumors were to spread that the Killing Stone was being deemed dangerous by the FBI.

I’d been told by my dear wife not to look up at the sky if I can help it, but I found myself inadvertently gazing up at the heavens. Fortunately or unfortunately, the Nasu Highlands sky was covered in even thicker clouds than when I last checked.

The moon was nowhere to be seen.

There was hardly any difference between the view when I was facing forward and when I was looking at the sky. It’s fine for now, but what about tomorrow night? Was the weather different between Nasu Highlands and Oku-Nikko? They say mountain weather is fickle.

“If you absolutely insist that I adhere to the hierarchical order involving master and servant, I could break the Killing Stone into even smaller pieces and dispose of it with no trace left behind.”

“No, it wouldn’t do to spread a different rumor. Who knows what kind of legend will be born if a blonde little girl is seen practicing stone-splitting at a historical site at night?”

If such a terrifying story were to become established, it’d blow away my terrifying experience tonight.

An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.

And a ghost story for a ghost story?

“Ah, I see. If one were to experience a scarier situation, it would render the rumor of the Killing Stone invalid.”

“Right. It’s like how ghost stories won’t scare you if you have toothache. Thankfully, I owe my lack of cavities to you.”

“I understand now.“

Shinobu nodded with a knowing glance. 

“Indeed, I recall that back in my heyday, I once tore off my leg below the knee due to unbearable pain from a broken pinky toe. I suppose it’s quite similar to that.” 

“Mhm… that’s also a way to deal with the pain, I guess.” 

Tearing off your own limb seemed to be a unique approach reserved for regenerating vampires. Akin to a lizard shedding its tail or surgically removing an affected area in medicine, I guess. At this point, it was becoming an unsettling preface. 

“Fear not. We’re not discussing tearing off your leg here.” 

“A little girl ripping off your leg in the middle of the night, that’d be a great ghost story. A brand new urban legend. What, are we starting a Hundred Ghost Stories right here? I bet any story told by you, the King of Aberrations, would be the embodiment of terror.”

But could even that surpass this real-life experience? I was the one who brought it up, but—was there a ghost story that could make me blurt out, “My apologies to the nine-tailed fox, but a Killing Stone’s got nothing on this,” after hearing it?

“Hmph… Not so much a ghost story as something I’d been meaning to discuss with you during this excursion. It could very well be scarier than any ghost story for you.”

“Ooh, exciting.”

“Perhaps even I won’t sleep tonight. Are you still pondering over that idea of yours, about binding me with your name instead of the aloha boy’s name that’s been shackling me all this while?”

“Yeah, I remember the two of us deciding that.”

“I don’t recall it being a mutual decision. It was almost entirely on you.”

A husband who rules the roost, are you? she said. Well, I can’t deny that I might have come across as a bit forceful in presenting the idea.

But so what?

Isn’t that water under the bridge?

“Water under the bridge or not, it’s not inherently a terrible idea. In the past, it would have been utterly impossible for you to have sealed me away with merely your name, but now you are practically a specialist of sorts. With the support of a veteran practitioner, you could place an even stronger seal on me.”

“A stronger seal? I have no intention of doing that, but—”

I didn’t want to rely on Oshino’s name forever, and if anything, as a plan of mine, I hoped to raise her sense of freedom, self-affirmation, even just a little—but would the “veteran practitioner” mentioned here be Gaen-san or Chief Kouga?

“I thought that being controlled by me might be preferable to being controlled by Oshino.”

“That seems kind-hearted of you, but it’s quite the dangerous thinking, as well. You criticize slavery when it’s to others, but it’s fine when you’re the one with control.”

I hadn’t expected to be called out like that, but yes, I realized it was a self-righteous idea. I didn’t want to admit it to the vampire who creates thralls, but when I paused to think it over, I found that over her six-hundred-year semi-life, Shinobu had created only two thralls, including myself.

Maybe from the beginning, this vampire was opposed to the idea of enslavement.

“You’re correct. In my case, before I became a vampire, I had witnessed Death’s own thralls. Having been shown such a forceful master-servant relationship and having it ingrained in my subconscious, I may have developed an aversion to it.”

Seishirou and I, we may have been unwillingly created as slaves—no, there was no doubt that we both were vampires born out of emergency escapes. At the very least, we weren’t slaves born out of Shinobu’s free will.

“If you value humanity, you might think that instead of transferring control by binding with a name, it’d be more reasonable to liberate slaves…”

“To be honest, I’m not entirely jesting about this matter either. I have no intention of blaming your sense of ethics, and it’s a fact that, thanks to you, I was able to end my life on the lam. Since my identity has changed many times before, it might be a little amusing to be bound by your name. I rather like the name Oshino Shinobu, but I have to admit, there’s something about it that makes me feel that aloha boy decided it on a whim.”

While I didn’t think it was entirely arbitrary, I couldn’t deny the feeling that wordplay had played a role in the decision.

“But master, I believe it’s a foul idea to make me your ‘daughter.’ That isn’t simply going too far, it’s running amok.”

“Hm? Really? It sounded really nice to me. But I don’t plan to decide this alone. As wicked as I may be, I’m not self-righteous.”

“I believe they’re similar, those two.”

“But I’ll admit there’s a problem with the way I’m going about it. I’ll make sure to get your approval, and obtain Hitagi’s consent according to the proper procedures. No surprises, no casual conversations in the car.”

To not treat her like a servant or a slave, but to take her in as a foster daughter, I think it was pretty progressive for our time… Not running amok, but running side by side.

“So, maybe there’s no need to bother Chief Kouga or Gaen-san about changing your name. Oikura can handle it.”

“’Tis a tragedy for that girl to find someone like you waiting for her at the end of her search for safety—worse than being beaten by her parents.”

After completely denying the foundation of my friendship with Oikura, Shinobu shook her head and pressed further, “Perhaps I should speak more clearly so that my message gets across?”

“I am not negating your philanthropy, no. As I’ve said numerous times, I have been saved by it, and it has brought me joy. I am even allowed to be lazy because of it, and it has guaranteed me a comfortable retirement. I may look different to you, but no matter how my name changes, I will always be the same. Hence, this isn’t my problem—it’s your lady’s problem.”

“Hitagi’s?”

Shinobu had taken a humble approach to their first meeting, leading me to think that it had all gone off without a hitch… I guess not so much? In fact, I suddenly remembered something Hitagi had said back when she had met Hachikuji: she couldn’t stand children.

She had even boasted that they should all just die—a line that, while typical of prime Senjougahara Hitagi, was still quite extreme. Not that I wish to criticize her past statements by digging them up, and I had thought she’d completely conquered that weakness at some point, but I realized there hadn’t been any situations where she was around children since then.

Even as someone who values home and family, Hitagi had no connection with Hachikuji whatsoever.

“Hmm, there certainly was a palpable sense of tension between us, but I didn’t feel any animosity. She didn’t seem to want to kill me.”

“What do you take my wife for?”

“Well, she used to be quite the character back then.”

That’s right.

That classmate of ours was exceptionally aggressive against everyone, junior Kanbaru and peer Hanekawa alike. But compared to those times, she had morphed into a remarkably easygoing and affable person.

“There was a side of me that wanted to take advantage of her affability and just let things unfold naturally with you. But now, I think it’s better to have a proper plan in place.“

“Ah, and thanks to this plan, I’ve come to understand that it is indeed best not to place me as your adopted child. Or even force me to be Araragi Shinobu.”

“What are you talking about? That’s not what you were saying earlier. Weren’t you on the Araragi side?”

“It’s not about taking sides. For you, it may be a matter of personal experience and inherent nature, something you’ve grown so accustomed to that you no longer reflect upon it. But, after our conversation today and after discovering her true intentions, I’ve found that the lady of the house is still unaware of this. And to become a family without knowing about it would be impossible—or rather, if she knew, it would be even more impossible.”

“……?”

Her true intentions?

Despite the frank prelude, her words were rather ambiguous anyway. She spoke them like they were stuck between her molars. 

“Molars, you say? More like fangs, perhaps.”

“Hmm?”

“Speaking of, how was the barbecue?”

Wait, the conversation just shifted gears.

Or was this some surreal ghost story?

“Well, it was pretty good… I’ve never had the chance to try this style of dining, even in America, but it’s a lot of fun. The campfire brings our spirits up, and it might have something to do with Kanbaru’s impressive cooking skills. It was charred just right, not just the meat, but the vegetables as well.”

Though phrases like “life is half-lived without food” were cliché and leave a bit of a bad taste in my mouth, it struck me that maybe, I should have been doing things like this in high school or university.

I think I had been stubbornly refusing to experience the fulfillment so many others had. Maybe that stubbornness, not just barbecue, was what had been really detrimental to my life.

“Come on, did you really want to eat too? Well, there’s a theory that family starts by having meals together, so—”

Tut, tut, tut, Shinobu quickly cut me off, wagging her theatrical finger at me. Then, with a contrasting seriousness on her face, she said, “’Tis fine for you to eat your meat and veggies; is it fine for me to eat humans, too?”

Really.

Would you share a table with someone like her?

“.…..”

My apologies to the nine-tailed fox, but—a Killing Stone’s got nothing on this.