Kizumonogatari

by Nisioisin

  I repeated that it was impossible.

  His answer was, “Oh, but abandoning missy class president isn’t?”

  ……

  Oshino. You bastard.

  My two arms had grown, not into greatswords, but like great trees flourishing in an old-growth forest on a lonely island, splitting off into countless branches, every last one of which I was aware of and able to freely control.

  Shoving Guillotine Cutter’s chest.

  Ensnaring his arms.

  Even retrieving Hanekawa had been within my means.

  Maybe I’d gone overboard with my image.

  Looking at myself─I certainly wasn’t human.

  I had abandoned my humanity.

  In the end, when I complained I couldn’t do what Dramaturgy did, I was refusing to let go of my humanity─rather than just clinging to the common sense I’d acquired as a human.

  It wasn’t something I was supposed to be capable of if I hoped to become human again.

  I couldn’t picture myself as anything other than a human being.

  But those illusions were just that─illusions.

  I was already a monster.

  From there, I slammed Guillotine Cutter to the ground, restrained him, and shut him up. I didn’t care if it was God speaking or whatever, I didn’t want to hear him spew any more lines, and so I bound his mouth shut with ivy─and knocked him out.

  Of course, I didn’t go so far as to kill him.

  I had to get Kissshot’s arms back from him, for one, and I’d been able to do something so outrageous─

  Thanks to you, Guillotine Cutter.

  Thanks to you.

  I thought never turning back into a human was maybe fine.

  “…Phew.”

  I returned my arms to their original form, which took no time at all.

  No mental images or anything required.

  These were arms I’d been seeing for seventeen years…so remembering them was enough. I’d gone and come up with the reckless idea, in the worst case, of cutting off both of my arms if it didn’t work, so I was more than a little relieved.

  I pulled Hanekawa toward me as I did this.

  “Hanekawa─are you okay?”

  I held her close and looked at her neck─clear and painful impressions of fingers were left on it, but there seemed to be no internal bleeding. In that case, the marks would disappear soon enough. I checked to see if anything else had been done to her─but no, she seemed fine.

  Thank goodness…

  Thank goodness, really.

  Nothing could make me happier.

  “Ah─ah, um, Araragi.”

  Hanekawa used both of her hands to push against my chest. I wondered what she was doing until I realized that she seemed to be trying to get away from me.

  “C-Could you let go?”

  “Uh… Okay.”

  When I relaxed my arms, Hanekawa moved even farther away.

  She was putting some distance between us.

  “Um… Ha-Hanekawa?”

  “Th-Thank you, Araragi,” Hanekawa mumbled, her eyes avoiding mine. “B-But, um─please don’t come near me. J-Just don’t come close. And don’t touch me.”

  “…What?”

  Was she─afraid of me?

  Because I got her involved in this?

  Because she nearly got killed?

  Or was she frightened─because my arms had transformed?

  Was she scared of me─because I’d abandoned my humanity?

  But─I mean, I was…

  “No, it’s not like that,” Hanekawa said bashfully as she fixed the hem of her skirt. “Just, I’m not wearing panties right now.”

  014

  Next day, April 6th.

  Afternoon.

  Night, in other words, for a vampire, so as usual both Kissshot and I were sleeping in the abandoned cram school’s second-floor classroom, the one with the blocked windows.

  I was roused out of bed. By Mèmè Oshino, who hadn’t come home the previous night or even shown himself to us. Who knows where that humble attitude of his from yesterday had gone, as he was now laughing away in his usual, sleazy way.

  “Morning, Araragi.”

  “…I can’t begin to describe how sleepy I am.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Over this way.”

  I was pulled out into the hallway, my eyes still blurry─while Kissshot dozed away, not even turning over in her sleep, despite our chattering.

  What a peaceful soul. Did she never worry?

  “What is it, Oshino?”

  “Hm? Er, I don’t know about the hallway… I’m sure Heartunderblade won’t wake up, but let’s go upstairs, just to be safe. Up to the fourth floor.”

  “The fourth floor…” As drowsy as I felt, I was still capable of making judgments. “The windows are open up there. What do you think is going to happen once the sun hits me?”

  “Don’t worry. It’s raining today.”

  “Raining?”

  Huh.

  Now that I thought about it, it hadn’t rained in a while. Unless it had been while I was unconscious before turning into a vampire, this was the first time during spring break.

  Or maybe it had rained during some of the twelve-hour afternoon stretches that I slept through… I wasn’t looking at the weather report, so I wasn’t sure.

  “So it’s fine. And with your healing abilities, even in the off-chance that the sun hits you, it’s not like you’ll die on the spot, eh?”

  “Tell me that after you’ve had your body evaporate once.”

  “C’mon, let’s go.”

  Oshino began to wander up the stairs, and I followed him, careful of my step. It didn’t seem to matter what classroom we went into as long as we were on the fourth floor, and Oshino chose the closest door. Once he finally got the thing, with its broken knob, to open, we were greeted by a tragically messy room. He didn’t have the luckiest fingers.

  “Hup!”

  But he seemed to ignore this fact entirely, dragging a random seat over and sitting on it backwards.

  I did the same. Out of a vague impulse to imitate him.

  “…That.”

  I pointed at the Boston bag Oshino held. My eyes were focused at last. It was the same bag that had held Kissshot’s right leg and Kissshot’s left leg.

  Which meant…

  “Yep,” Oshino nodded. “Absolutely correct. Both of Heartunderblade’s arms are inside.”

  “…I see.”

  Relieved, I took a deep sigh. After Oshino hadn’t returned by morning, I was concerned that just maybe Guillotine Cutter didn’t intend to return Kissshot’s arms.

  For her part, Kissshot barely seemed to care and went to sleep with a “Morning, is it? Time to sleep.”

  A peaceful soul─without a single worry.

  That, or I was faint-hearted.

  But this was Guillotine Cutter, the man who had called both Dramaturgy and Episode “honest fools” for returning Kissshot’s right and left legs, respectively. It seemed entirely possible that he’d renege on his promises.

  No matter how much I fretted, my only option was to hope Oshino could take care of it─

  “Hm? Oh, I know what you want to say, Araragi. You’re surprised that Guillotine Cutter kept his promise, right?”

  “Well, to be direct about it, yes.”

  “That’s where my skills come into play. I am a negotiator, after all─though to spoil it, Guillotine Cutter didn’t actually seem to be interested in returning them.”

  “After all.”

  “He was being pretty stingy─no surprise there. Unlike the other two, Guillotine Cutter was acting out of duty.”

  “Duty, huh.” I recalled the many lines he’d delivered. “Still, is that how you act when you think you’re one of the good guys?”

  “Everyone has their own definition of good. You shouldn’t be so quick to repudiate others─he was a villain to you, that’s all. And, despite all he said, in the end…”

  Oshino tosse
d the Boston bag in front of me. Roughly, like it was luggage.

  “He did give it back.”

  “I’m amazed he did.”

  “Like I said, I had to convince him.”

  “How? He’s basically a fanatic─or maybe a fantasist to my non-religious eyes. For him, isn’t returning a vampire’s limbs like abandoning his faith?”

  “Like I said, these guys will listen if you talk to them. They’re pros, after all.”

  “Pros, you say.”

  “Yes, professionals.”

  My cross-examination must have been starting to annoy Oshino; he tried to bring an end to it with that word.

  “Specifically, I told him about how you wanted to turn back into a human after collecting Heartunderblade’s limbs─and how Heartunderblade had agreed.”

  “…So you’re saying Guillotine Cutter backed down for my sake?”

  “That’s one way to put it, I guess,” Oshino said somewhat vaguely. He seemed to be insinuating something, but then I remembered that this was a guy who spoke in an awfully insinuating tone no matter the time or place. It didn’t seem very meaningful to take it at face value.

  His know-it-all pose could be just that─a pose.

  In any case, it was a good thing that Kissshot’s parts had been returned. Normally, that would be all, no further discussion necessary. I didn’t want to have to think of Guillotine Cutter again.

  I undid the zipper of the Boston bag. Inside were─her right arm, from the elbow down, and her entire left arm, torn off from the joint of its shoulder.

  “I did at least make sure he could save face. Of course, I also gave him a very strong warning about kidnapping missy class president. If this were a game of soccer, that would’ve earned him a yellow card.”

  “A red card, you mean.”

  “Maybe a red card if he’d killed her. Episode would’ve received one if she’d died after what he did─but then, you tried to kill Episode, so let’s call it even.”

  “It wasn’t like I was trying to─”

  To kill him, I wanted to say, but stopped myself short of the end.

  That was a lie, plain and simple.

  I’d lost my temper and couldn’t help it─or actually, I didn’t even care what happened.

  If Oshino hadn’t stopped me, I probably would have─killed Episode.

  I did try─to kill him.

  “Er, well.”

  “What? You’re so spirited today, Araragi, raising your voice one second and muffling it the next. Something good happen to you today?” Oshino said as if to sweep things under the rug, before taking a peek at the arms inside the Boston bag and pointing to them with his unlit cigarette. “Anyway─I guess this makes all four of her limbs that you’ve fetched. Congratulations, Araragi. Mission complete. I’m as happy for you as if this concerned yourself.”

  “A little more empathy, please?”

  “Well, it’s not my problem, is it.”

  “……”

  Sure. It wasn’t his problem.

  “I’m impressed, I really am─a mere high school student with no combat experience whatsoever took on three veteran vampire-hunting specialists and defeated all three in a row. I must take my hat off to you.”

  “You don’t wear a hat.”

  “It’s a figure of speech,” Oshino said, putting his cigarette in his mouth. He didn’t light it.

  “…I know this might be a pointless question, but─Oshino, why don’t you ever light your cigarettes?”

  “Hm? Well, if I did, it’d be harder to adapt into an anime, right?”

  “……”

  Why did he care so much about an anime adaptation? It was a complete mystery to me.

  “Now now, Araragi. I’m telling you congratulations, but you seem awfully sullen. You accomplished your goal, that’s something to be happy about! It’s like you’re at a wake or something.”

  “I still feel doubtful, Oshino,” I said.

  It was about─one of the things that bugged me.

  I’d been going back and forth on whether to ask Oshino, but now, face to face with his carefree attitude, it felt idiotic to be mulling it over.

  If there was something I wanted to ask, I needed to go ahead.

  If he wouldn’t give an answer, then that was that.

  “It’s about Guillotine Cutter.”

  “Hm.”

  “Well, I understand in theory─he underestimated me in yesterday’s battle, and as a result I was able to beat him without even getting wounded. I understand that in theory, but Oshino, it’s like you just said. A single attack from a mere high schooler who’d transformed his body for the first time ever─that was all it took to defeat someone as dangerous as him? A man who stole both arms away from a legendary vampire?”

  “Mm.”

  “And actually, it’s not just Guillotine Cutter. It’s the same for Dramaturgy and Episode. They each took Kissshot’s right leg and left leg─but when you look at what ended up happening, they were easily defeated by me, someone who, as you said, has no combat experience, who’s only ever been in scuffles with his little sister─how could that be?”

  I got lucky, you could say.

  That it was a fluke.

  But─wasn’t there a more constructive answer?

  “Is it that they’re weak? Or am I─too strong?”

  While I asked the question, I had no guess as to what the answer might be. It baffled me, plain and simple.

  But─and I didn’t know why─I felt like Oshino knew the answer. Because he was more neutral than anyone else. Because he was someone who tried to maintain a balance─

  “It’s both,” he said, sure enough. “From their perspective, you’re just too strong─and from your perspective, they’re just too weak. After all, you’re the thrall of none other than Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade.”

  “But is that really the only reason?”

  “It’s the only reason,” he, Mèmè Oshino, asserted. “If you’re looking for a reason why an amateur like yourself was able to defeat them, that’s the only one─still, there was a very real chance you’d lose. In fact, the odds were heavily stacked against you. You were quite impressive out there, Araragi.”

  “Heavily stacked against me? You brought the situation back to fifty-fifty, didn’t you?”

  It was about balance.

  I had been granted the locational advantage, killing had been forbidden─and when Hanekawa was kidnapped, I was alerted to a tactic to make up for Guillotine Cutter having that much of an edge.

  He made sure that things were fifty-fifty.

  But.

  “But I’m saying it doesn’t make sense if that’s true. If you start off with that premise─it stops making sense.”

  “Stops making sense, how?”

  “I’m this strong as a thrall. If Kissshot was in full power mode─how could those three stand a chance against her even if they all attacked at the same time?”

  That was my gut feeling.

  Even if you went with the lowest possible estimation of Kissshot’s power as a vampire in her regular form, there was no way she could be weaker than me─and on top of that, she had five hundred years of experience.

  Five hundred years of experience.

  Combat experience.

  Dramaturgy’s wavy greatswords, Episode’s giant cross, Guillotine Cutter’s fearsome underhandedness─even together, could they rob Kissshot Acerolaorion Heartunderblade of her limbs?

  I could only arrive at one conclusion.

  It seemed─impossible.

  Like there’d be no way.

  “You’ve got good intuition, Araragi─keep at it, and you might turn out to be quite the expert,” Oshino said with a sly grin.