Monogatari Series - Volume 31 - Chapter 17

Hitagi Throwing

As someone who has been devoted to Senjougahara Hitagi for some years now, it feels like a betrayal of some kind to say something like this, but when I first met her as a first-year in middle school, the impression that I had of her was not exactly a positive one.

To be more specific, one might say that it was a negative impression.

I thought, “Just who is this girl?”

If it’s okay to be a bit more informal, then my more exact thought was, “This girl’s bad news.” Now, I’d like you to cut me some slack here, because at the time I had only just graduated from elementary school, and I was, in appearance, personality, ability, and intellect, a brat of a meager 12 years of age.

However, I will also firmly say that Senjougahara-senpai was not entirely without fault of her own; in fact, let me emphasize that she was not without fault. After all, when she—the track-and-field club’s very own ace—came storming into the gym during basketball practice, it seemed like the start of a raid, and all of the basketball club members flinched. And she didn’t come alone. She brought along a large group of her followers, which was not limited to other track-and-field members and included students from not only the second- and third-year students, but there were even some first-year students mixed in. To an observer, it looked as if a feudal lord had descended upon the gymnasium along with his full retinue of retainers.

To put it another way, it’s like when Mitchi showed up in Slam Dunk.

She was smiling softly and had a gentle manner, but that only made her all the more intimidating, in part because her cronies had an unusual air about them.

“You’re Kanbaru-san, then? I’ve heard rumors that you’re quick on your feet—if it’s no bother, may I observe you?”

What is she, a noble lady?

That was what I wanted to say, but back then Senjougahara-senpai was like that—she was like a character taken straight from a shoujo novel.

It put a shiver down my spine to discover that this person really existed. And allow me to clarify that when I say “a shiver down my spine,” I don’t mean it in the good way—looking back on it now, it might be more accurate to say that I recoiled with shock.

I had an instinctive feeling that her request was strange.

And so was she.

To put it simply, that just about sums up my first impression of her—of course, Senjougahara-senpai was famous, so after I had enrolled in the school and even before I joined the basketball club, I had already heard her name a number of times.

She and Hanekawa-senpai were the two poster children for my school—to the point that we were told (by a teacher during the entrance ceremony) not to cross “those two” if we wanted to make it in the school (at the time I didn’t know which two the teacher was talking about, but, in retrospect, the warning was largely accurate).

However, as you know, I was a twelve-year-old who had, for various reasons, a rather extraordinary obsession with running fast—but because of those same reasons, I was unable to join the track and field club. Nevertheless, I took an interest in the ace of the track and field club, Senjougahara-senpai, and went to observe her running during that April, even though I had not become a trial member of the team.

I didn’t realize that it was possible for a person to run so beautifully.

It took my breath away.

My running form was not something that I had received coaching for—even now, I have not received any education in sprinting, so my running form is self-taught. Being self-taught is not a bad thing; it’s a perfectly acceptable running style, and I never had a complex about how I ran, but when I saw Senjougahara-senpai run on that day, the beauty of her form stood in stark contrast to the frantic flailing of my own form.

She displayed the final form of human running.

She was the idealized runner.

But I could not attempt to copy her—she was not like me, and I was not like her.

I was painfully aware of our differences.

I also remember thinking that the track uniforms were erotic, but that’s neither here nor there. I’d had no intention of joining the track club, as I said before, but after seeing her run, whatever lingering regrets I had were gone.

It blew me away.

To look at it another way, it was seeing Senjougahara-senpai run that day that made me into the basketball player that I am today—it was easy to forget what had caused me to become so passionately devoted to basketball, but I’ll save that discussion of “you never know what event will become a turning point in your life” for another time.

You could say that I’m not really a shy person, but when it came to Senjougahara-senpai, I made it my policy to actively avoid coming in contact with her, so for her to seek me out on her own was so surprising as to strike me dumb. Add in her whole “storybook princess” demeanor, and I turned into a stuttering, stumbling idiot—so, suffice to say, on the day that Senjougahara-senpai (and her retinue) observed my basketball practice, I was not exactly doing my best.

“May we speak, Kanbaru-san?”

After practice, Senjougahara-senpai approached me—and while I didn’t exactly feel enticed by her invitation, my heart skipped a beat regardless.

Looking at her up close, it was hard to believe that a girl with such mature features was only a year older than myself.

“You’re as fast as the rumors say—so how about it? Do you have any interest in transferring to the track club? Why not spend your youth in friendly competition with me?”

… She was an impressively bold headhunter. By the way, the basketball team captain (a third-year) was also there at the time as Senjougahara-senpai (a second-year) tried to steal me from the team, but the captain acted as if it were none of her business and didn’t interrupt.

Just what were you hoping to find by examining the ball that closely, captain?

You can turn it over as many times as you want; you’re not going to find a hole.

I was disappointed in the team captain, but setting that aside, I was happy to receive the invitation—no matter the situation or the way that it was said, I would always be happy to receive praise for the legs that I was so proud of. It made my heart dance to be acknowledged.

That simplicity still has not changed.

I’ve always been an idiot when it came to this.

That said, it still didn’t mean that I was so stupid as to blindly be scouted just because someone praised me. I’m an idiot who can think. So I politely, but firmly, declined her invitation while trying to hint that she had been a bit rude, but without being so blatant as to damage her reputation or be rude myself.

“Better luck next time.”

Huh?

What is this memory?

Who is this cheeky little brat? Oh, it’s me.

Was I at the age where I reacted to authority with petulance? Or was I afraid that if I didn’t reject her firmly, she would wear away my resolve and convince me to join the track club? Either way, maybe that wasn’t the exact phrasing that I used (I would like to think so), but, even if so, I still rejected Senjougahara-senpai in a rude way.

“Oh my. You’re quite spirited, aren’t you? I’m becoming even more interested in you.”

Senjougahara-senpai replied in a cool and composed tone (looking back on it now, I can’t help but think, “Who the hell are you?”), but the retinue of club members assembled behind her looked to be trying to use their eyes to stab me through.

Oh man, I’m so dead.

The crowd of cronies looked ready to get physical with me, but Senjougahara-senpai smiled and held a hand out to stop them without looking, then said, “It’s okay. I like nothing more than to tame cute girls like this.”

Seriously, who the hell are you?

Perhaps my imagination is adding to the memory a bit, so maybe my memory of middle school second-year Senjougahara-senpai isn’t perfectly accurate, but the big picture of us having a stressful, if brief, interview as our first contact is certainly true.

“Have a pleasant day.”

And with those parting words, Senjougahara-senpai left.

Even in the face of my unfavorable and downright rude response, she remained elegant. She carried on that noble air from start to finish, and while those events did hurt me, I thought that it was for the best.

Even if I had to be rude to do it, it would be better to firmly reject her than to reply so mildly that she continued to hold out hopes for me—of course, having rejected one of the famous girls of the school, I suspected that I may have set myself up to have a difficult life as a middle school girl, but, well, even if I had tried to stay in her good favor, I would likely have bungled that too.

Come if you’re going to come; I’ll take you on.

That was the stance that I mentally took, and I was not disappointed.

But the one who came to find me in the gym the next day was not one or more of Senjougahara-senpai’s retinue come to put me in my place, but instead it was Senjougahara-senpai herself—without anyone else, just herself.

“Hello everyone. We are blessed with lovely weather today, aren’t we? May I observe your practice once again?”

The older girls in the basketball club began to murmur to each other—it sounded different from the reaction from the previous day, and I later learned that it was because Senjougahara-senpai very rarely went anywhere unaccompanied.

She didn’t choose to have people follow her around, but instead, it was more that she was the kind of person that people naturally gravitated to and followed—which meant that the only way she could arrive in the gym without at least a small group of followers was for her to have told them to leave her alone.

Why?

I told her “better luck next time,” so did she actually think that she should try again and hopefully have better luck on the second attempt? And she decided that coming on her own might be the factor that would convince me?

Several of the basketball team members volunteered to make Senjougahara-senpai more comfortable, and so she sat off to the side in a comfortable chair, partaking in the snacks she had been provided while watching us practice with a smile. Or rather, she watched me practice. I couldn’t read anything from her body language.

I had been welcomed into the basketball club with a good bit of fanfare because of my speed, so it wasn’t as if I had never been observed while playing before, but there was something about being watched so intensely that made it difficult to play. On that day, I missed an unusually high percentage of shots and even made a lot of simple mistakes with dribbling—the only thing that kept me from outright failing was the speed of my legs. But seeing as Senjougahara-senpai was there to see how fast I could be, she must have been happy with the display.

“Kanbaru-san. Have you reconsidered your response to my invitation?”

“No, I’m not having second thoughts…”

I didn’t go so far as to say I hadn’t thought about it at all.

It was difficult to be rude to someone who showed up two days in a row to express interest in you.

“Hm. Then how about this? You and I shall have a 100-meter race, and if I win, then you will transfer into the track club. Don’t you think it’s a wonderful idea?”

“… So if you lose, then you’ll join the basketball team?”

“Eh?”

She tilted her head in confusion.

No, don’t you “Eh?” me.

There’s no way that you don’t understand.

“No, I will not be doing that.”

She firmly rejected the idea.

“But it would mean that I will no longer come to the gym every day without fail.”

“You intend to come every day…”

I told her no.

I’m pretty sure that I tried to be less rude than the day before.

“Oh.”

Senjougahara-senpai seemed genuinely surprised by the response.

“How strange. Was I wrong about you?”

“About what?”

“Someone like you would be unable to back down when presented with a challenge.”

“…”

That assumption of hers—was correct.

But, even if that were the case, I couldn’t allow myself to race against anyone. Of course, if I accepted the challenge and won, then the whole issue would be settled. But if I were to lose… I didn’t want to think about what would happen.

Also, there was the question of whether Senjougahara-senpai would actually back down if I won against her in the race—so it would be all risk with no reward.

“No thanks.”

She simply said that she understood.

I fell silent, and Senjougahara-senpai left—but before she departed the gym, she cleaned up the snack wrappers and put away the chair that she had used while observing our practice. She did seem to have had a good upbringing.

I was happy if she understood that she wouldn’t be able to convince me to join her club, but, thinking about it more, Senjougahara-senpai hadn’t said what it was that she understood. The true meaning of her words was a mystery.

And the next day, that mystery was solved.

For the third time, Senjougahara Hitagi arrived in the gymnasium during the basketball team’s practice. But unlike the first and second visits, she was not wearing her school uniform, nor was she wearing the erotic—that is to say, stylish—uniform of the track club, but she instead wore one of our own basketball uniforms.

Her back bore the number 4.

Well, actually, the number was also on the front of her jersey, so I don’t suppose I needed to specify that it was on her back. Anyway, the point is that the #4 jersey belonged to the captain.

I looked back to confirm and found that, sure enough, our team captain was in the back of the gym wearing her P.E. uniform and polishing a basketball. I just polished that one. Why are you polishing it again? Just how shiny do you want that ball to be? It’ll slip out of our hands if you give it any more polish than that.

Apparently our team captain rented out her uniform, what you might call the symbol that our team followed, to Senjougahara-senpai when she asked for it. You could say that this was the instant when all of our captain’s authority vanished.

Once this whole thing was settled, there would be a coup d'état.

“If you will not compete with me on the track, then I will come to your field and compete with this basketball. Does this work for you?”

“Uh… huh…?”

To be entirely honest, I was mostly just feeling uneasy at that point in time, and I definitely didn’t want to accept her challenge. I didn’t want to, but what choice did I have when she had shown up a third time to try and convince me to join the track club?

She did, technically, ask for the “captain’s” permission before doing this (it pains me that I had to put quotation marks around captain, but that reflects the sad state of affairs at the time), and so half of the gym’s court was reserved for myself and Senjougahara-senpai to have our competition.

Our showdown.

Bout. Duel.

What actually followed was not as dramatic as the words used to describe it might suggest. It wasn’t instantly resolved, and there was definitely some tension during the competition, but it’s a bit difficult to have much drama when the competition is just a free throw contest. Our “captain,” or, I guess I should say, our captain, insisted that we have a competition where there was no risk of us coming into physical contact with each other. I was a new member on the team, and while Senjougahara-senpai was a veteran athlete, she was not a basketball player. So, to be on the safe side, it was decided that we could not have a true 1-on-1 match on the off chance that either of us should get injured.

Whoever made ten baskets first would win.

There were no handicaps, and the competition proceeded in a simple and straightforward manner—we took turns taking our shots, and after thirty minutes, it was all over.

The final score was ten to nine.

It was a close match—which Senjougahara-senpai won.

We both missed a number of shots, but we remained neck-and-neck throughout, until, in the end, Senjougahara-senpai managed to get the final basket.

“It was a good competition.” Senjougahara spoke, brushing aside her long, elegant hair. “Kanbaru-san, it seems that you are more suited for the basketball court than the track—I hope that you will continue to give it your best.”

She turned on her heel and left the gym.

I had already been thinking of some way to avoid taking part in races (such as by focusing on long jump or high jump) and had resigned myself to having to join the track club, so when Senjougahara-senpai simply departed, I was left dumbfounded for a moment.

But it was only a moment.

I hurriedly chased after Senjougahara-senpai—and I full-out sprinted, so I quickly caught up to her elegant walk, and I grabbed her wrist.

Grabbing someone by the wrist is a forceful way to stop them. One might say that it’s wild and violent, which is to say, it’s very me. Senjougahara-senpai turned to look at me with obvious suspicion, and perhaps she was letting her real self show through because her gaze was sharp.

Under that sharp gaze, I asked, “Was this your goal from the start?”

It was almost more like an interrogation than a simple question, which was also very like me.

“You wanted to compete with me, beat me, and then drop me?”

“… What do you mean? For what reason would I do such a thing?”

Senjougahara-senpai asked back seriously without any hint of evasion.

“To protect me,” I replied.

The outline was simple enough—there was no mistake that the original reason that she had come to the gym was to scout me for the track team after hearing rumors about me.

And she would surely have anticipated that there was a chance that I would say no to her invitation.

But what she did not anticipate was the super strength of my refusal—that is, my more-than-necessary, full-on rejection. And I had rejected her so rudely in front of all of her followers.

Senjougahara-senpai managed to keep things peaceful at that time, but, as they say, bad news travels fast. A newly enrolled first-year who dared to bare her teeth at the elegant and skilled Senjougahara Hitagi would be a rumor that reached every ear in record time, and when it did… my school life would have a very bleak outlook.

I had planned—which is to say, foolishly assumed—to deal with that problem when the time came, but Senjougahara-senpai had a way to prevent it from happening in the first place.

She was able to rein in the people who followed her directly, but she had no way of anticipating what others might do upon hearing the rumor—people are good on their own, but there’s plenty of bad to be found in a group. That was why Senjougahara-senpai needed to get ahead of the rumors and put an end to the story—and in a way that would let her be in the winning position. But it wasn’t just about her winning—she needed to win in such a way that it would be a close battle so as not to tarnish the reputation of the first-year rising star of the basketball team.

And so we had a free-throw contest.

… Thinking about it more, it had been strange for the team captain to just go along with whatever Senjougahara-senpai said, but then also be the one to decide on the rules for the contest in the way that she did… In other words, by having us take turns to do our free throws, they would be able to control the scores, and the two of them must have arranged the entire circumstance of our contest from the start, back whenever Senjougahara-senpai had gone to ask to borrow the uniform (which means I was completely wrong about the captain).

If I had accepted her challenge on the second day—which would have been the best for Senjougahara-senpai—she could have controlled her speed so as to put on a show of it being a close race between the two of us.

She must have a lot of confidence to have been so sure that she could “barely win in a neck-and-neck competition” in not only running on the track but also a free throw competition. That she was able to pull it off so cleanly, however, meant that I could not fault her for that confidence.

By clearly and definitively beating me and then, just as clearly and definitively, acknowledging my ability in a public space—which is to say, giving me permission to continue playing basketball—she would knock down the perceived conflict and defuse the situation with her fans who might have wished me harm.

“… Supposing that I had been thinking along those lines…”

Senjougahara-senpai spoke now in a flat, sober voice that was entirely unlike how she had been talking up until that point.

“Wouldn’t you be throwing away my consideration by confronting me and voicing your thoughts to me? Are you not undoing what I’ve just done?”

She was trying to tell me that I should follow her lead and subtly accept what she did for me. I let go of her wrist.

And then I took hold of her hand instead.

I did so gently.

I copied Senjougahara-senpai’s mannerisms of softness and kindness—she no doubt thought that I was trying to have a friendly parting handshake to show that there were no hard feelings, but instead I did something that was completely unexpected and kissed the back of her hand.

“W… What?!”

She practically screamed the word with surprise, and I straightened.

“No, I don’t think so.” I declared. “Because I have decided to accept your kindness and go far beyond what is necessary to repay it—Senjougahara-senpai.”

From now on, I am your dog.

That’s what I told her.

Senjougahara Hitagi and Kanbaru Suruga. The pair that would go on to be called the Valhalla Duo began here.

“Are you an idiot?”

I still think that those words and the cold smile that came with them were probably Senjougahara-senpai’s genuine, impartial reaction to what I had said.