Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

To properly outline my relationship with Senjougahara Hitagi, it is first necessary to outline my relationship with everyone else in my class. As class representative of Naoetsu Senior High’s Class 3-2, it is my responsibility to announce the due dates for homework, communicate which materials will be necessary for class, lead the morning announcements, lead the afternoon announcements, coordinate club schedules, plan the cultural festival, plan club meetups, and assist students who are set to receive poor grades.

Spend enough time looking after a rowdy group of highschool kids, and it becomes difficult not to think of them as your own. Even if they’re loud, even if it’s stressful, there’s a certain irreplicable camaraderie between us that I haven’t been able to find anywhere else in the world. It’s as though they’re my flock, and I’m their shepherd—our relationship is one of deference, certainly, but also mutual affection.

Being so involved in both club activities and the daily goings-on of the classroom, there’s not a person in my homeroom that I don’t interact with regularly. Whether it’s an English club mutual or a straggler who I have to tutor for, there’s a little slice of Hanekawa Tsubasa waiting for everyone.

Well. Everyone except for Senjougahara Hitagi.

Senjougahara reads. In my entire time here at Naoetsu High, all I’ve ever seen Senjougahara do is read.

Of course, I’ve never had the pleasure of sharing a classroom with her until now. But I do pop into neighboring classrooms occasionally, usually to borrow some textbook or another, and every time I do there’ll be Senjougahara Hitagi in the back of the class, her nose lowered towards a book. The faces in the classroom always change, but she is always just the same.

Now, I can’t fault someone for being a voracious reader. Reading and learning are virtues all and of themselves, that’s self-evident to anyone who knows anything. The problem is that Senjougahara pursues these things to the detriment of all things social. I’m certain she doesn’t attend any clubs. I’m doubly certain she doesn’t have a single friend.

It’s sad. It’s strange. I want to help.

Being a club organizer means I have an easy excuse to talk to anyone in my class who attends a club. Being class representative means I have an easy excuse to talk to anyone concerning their poor academic performance. Senjougahara is an avid member of the go-home club and an academic overachiever, and as such is immune to both.

And so, even three weeks into my senior year, I have not exchanged so much as a word with her.

I thought it would stay like that for the rest of the year, and maybe for the rest of time. I’d resigned myself to not having a line of access to Senjougahara Hitagi. And despite myself, I was fine with it. I had made my peace with it.

And how nearsighted that had turned out to be!

It happened on a spring afternoon not one month after the start of the school year. Classes had just ended for the day, and I was taking the long way to a meeting with my vice-president. It was that magical time of day when all activity had receded from the school, leaving the halls in a state of perfect stillness, as though suspended in air. I was climbing a staircase.

It was then that I heard a sharp intake of air from above me. An involuntary gasp of surprise.

I looked up.

And to my shock.

There was a body plummeting straight towards me. Arms windmilling for balance, hair splayed outwards. It all happened faster than I had time to process. My arms extended robotically, gently, as though it were the perfectly natural thing to do. Had I a moment longer to react, I would surely have reconsidered this. At the speed the girl was falling, and considering she was a good deal taller than I was, she should have broken my arms and plunged straight into the floor.

But the sensation that shot through me as I caught the girl wasn’t dissimilar to that of catching a thrown pillow—light and airy, completely without weight. Or that is, like catching an object with greater volume than mass.

Still surprised my arms hadn’t shattered under the weight of the girl’s—Senjougahara’s—impact, I hurriedly asked if she was alright—only to be met with unconsciousness. She must’ve fainted when she fell. Understandable, considering the height of this staircase was thirty feet, a fall that would’ve spelled a trip to the emergency room for anyone else.

I was stunned, and I wasn’t thinking clearly. That’s why I barely reacted when Senjougahara’s eyes snapped open, and she roughly shoved me away from her. Despite her lack of weight, Senjougahara did not lack force, and her shove landed me right on my butt.

“You’re—” was all I managed to get out. I must’ve been gaping like a fish.

She regarded me coldly for a moment, but seemed to realize that even if I snitched, no one would believe me. Without so much as a word, she turned on her heel and walked away with a perfectly natural gait, as though nothing had happened at all.

Had her name not been emblazoned on the class register, I probably would have assumed she was a ghost. It was at that moment I decided I had to know more about Senjougahara Hitagi.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Senjougahara-san, huh?” the girl across from me asked, playing her fingers across the front of a folder, her every movement slow and tired. That’s natural, I suppose. The school day had already ended, and everyone had either gone home, or off to their respective clubs. Which was to say, we were all alone. “What about her?”

I adjusted my glasses.

“With June on the way, the Cultural Festival is just around the corner. It’s my responsibility as class representative to make sure everyone is contributing equally to preparations. And Senjougahara-san… As I hear it, she hasn’t participated in a single cultural festival since she set foot in Naoetsu. I’m hoping I can coax her out of her shell this year, but I want to know as much as I can about her beforehand.” None of this was untrue. For someone of Senjougahara’s social ineptitude, Cultural Festivals were all but completely out of the question, and that had apparently been a source of vexation for class representatives and teachers of years prior.

Of course, it wasn’t the whole truth, either. A person with no weight is something abnormal—that is, an anomaly.

An oddity.

And maybe, if I knew a bit more about Senjougahara’s past, her current predicament might be made that much more clear.

“Only you could care so much about one loose screw, Hanekawa-san. Who cares if one person doesn’t want to participate? A Cultural Festival is a Cultural Festival with or without Senjougahara Hitagi.”

I was already shaking my head at her.

“Not good enough, Aikawa-san. It is the duty of every student to participate, and it is our duty to ensure every student participates. Senjougahara-san will just have to suck it up.”

“So why ask me?”

“As I understand it, the two of you went to middle school together.”

“You know everything,” the girl scoffed.

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

Aikawa Kayo was the name of the girl sitting before me today. She’s a classmate of mine, and someone who I’ve noticed has taken a liking to me over the past couple years. Despite the fact that she and I have been class representative and assistant class representative three years running, she’s someone I’ve only ever known as Aikawa-san. In fact, I wouldn’t even know her given name had I not read it on the class roster. She’s a sweet girl with a mind for planning and an affection for protocol, and that’s all I’ve ever needed to know about her.

It’s safe to assume that my current understanding of Aikawa Kayo is incomplete.

She and I were meeting that day to discuss plans for the upcoming school Cultural Festival, which was to be held in June. Today was May eighth. Normally I have a head for comprehensive list-making, but my run-in with our mysterious classmate had wormed its way back into my head, and I carefully steered the conversation towards Senjougahara Hitagi.

“Well I gotta say, Hanekawa-san, you have quite the roundabout way of getting to know people.”

“I like to have a sufficient knowledge base before acting. That’s normal, isn’t it?”

Aikawa rolled her eyes, and I thought maybe there was something here I wasn’t seeing.

“Well, it’s just as you said. She and I went to middle school together. We only shared a classroom once, mind you, but I remember her always being pretty jovial.”

“Jovial?”

This was news to me. Senjougahara? Jovial?

It sounded like a joke.

“Yeah, I remember her always being pretty energetic; the kind of girl who says hi to everyone she meets on the playground. She built up quite a name for herself in those days. She was an incredible track and field star, and she had the reputation of someone good-hearted and friendly. But for some reason, she just stopped. It wasn’t until I entered highschool that I found out Senjougahara-san had contracted some illness or another. I was in the same class as her freshman year, and I can tell you the change was drastic. She got colder, started putting walls up. I think even the people who were friends with her at the time were given the cold shoulder. It was so strange. None of us could figure her out.”

“Did anything happen at school that might have sparked such a change?” I pressed, but Aikawa just shrugged.

“Dunno. I was never really friends with her, we just happened to be in the same class at the time. I certainly haven’t heard anything incriminating.” Aikawa kept glancing at the floor. Sensing she was getting bored with this line of questioning, I regretfully shifted gears.

“Well, I suppose we should move on to the Cultural Festival.”

That got her to perk up.

“Yes, let’s! We have a lot to talk about. I just got done finalizing the preparations for the Cultural Festival today, so all I’ll need is your approval before we can go ahead with it.”

Finalizing preparations? But we don’t even have a plan yet.

She reached into her bag, and pulled out an impressively tidy portfolio complete with rough sketches and a bullet point list. My brow furrowed. It was all a bit much. Especially since this meeting was supposed to be a chance for the two of us to decide on a plan together.

“I had the idea to do a haunted house, since that’ll be low-effort and easy for most people to engage with. I’ve already received written permission from our homeroom teacher, so all I need is for you to sign off on this.”

Is she…

Is she being serious?

Not only was it a breach of protocol for her to be this proactive, it was also beyond selfish. Planning the Cultural Festival was supposed to be a collaborative effort between the Class Representative and Assistant Class Representative. Not only had I been iced out of the process, but this was my final year at Naoetsu, and therefore my final chance to plan a Cultural Festival.

“Aikawa-san,” I said, keeping my tone light. “This all looks wonderful, and I’m impressed by the amount of effort you’ve put in. But you are egregiously out of line right now. You know, I’m sure, that the planning of a Cultural Festival is meant to be a collaborative process between the two of us?”

“Um.” Aikawa shrunk a little. “Well, yeah. That’s what I told you.”

“Come again?”

“When I called you over Golden Week, you told me you were feeling, in your words: “Completely and utterly stressed to the bone”. You said it’d be a big help if I did everything myself. I tried to argue, but you told me you had the utmost confidence in my abilities, and that made me feel great about myself. So I agreed. You do remember this, don’t you?”

…

I do not. The conversation Aikawa described does not exist in my recollection of events. That said, I do fully believe such a conversation happened; it just wasn’t me on the other end of the line.

I see. Her. So that’s what happened.

“Ah, you’re right. I’m so sorry Aikawa-san. I suppose I had it in my head that it was something I’d have to do, and it must’ve slipped my mind that I asked you to cover for me. Thank you so much for helping me out. I’m in your debt.”

I gave her a bow. She deserved it.

Aikawa had clearly put an exceptional amount of effort into these plans, and it would be more than rude of me to turn her ideas down. Especially when I had technically asked her to do it. But my thoughts in that moment were on other matters.

Black Hanekawa. That’s what Oshino calls her, anyway. My adopted sister, and my other half.

There is a two-day period right in the center of Golden Week that exists as a black hole in my memory. Though it’d be more accurate to say it’s as if I was asleep for those two days. I went to sleep in my own bed one night, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up on the floor of the cram school two days later with Oshino and my former master standing over me. At some point in that two day span, Aikawa must have called looking to talk about festival preparations, and my doppelgänger must’ve answered. Troublesome.

What was even more troublesome was the fact that Black Hanekawa had seen fit to foist my responsibilities onto a third-party. Asking for help was well and natural, but shirking responsibility was downright cowardly. A human would know better, and a small part of me resented Aikawa for allowing me to push her around in such a way.

“Hey, it’s really no big deal,” Aikawa said. “I’m just happy to be seen as reliable, especially by you. And if we’re being honest with ourselves here, Hanekawa-san, if there’s anyone in this school who deserves a break, it’d be you.”

“That’s true. But if there’s anyone in this school who cannot for any reason take a break, it’d also be me.”

“Fair enough. Do I have your go-ahead to submit these to Hoshina-sensei?”

“You do! Thanks for all your hard work.”

Aikawa smiled, and stuffed the folders back into her bag. I picked up my bag, thinking the meeting was over, but Aikawa made no move to stand. Her gaze was trained on me.

“Something up?” I asked.

“Just thinking.”

“About what?”

Aikawa sighed, leaning forwards a bit.

“Are you going to that old cram school again today?”

Oh. I wasn’t aware she knew about that.

No point lying.

“Yes, I am. Why do you ask?”

Aikawa’s demeanor had shifted. She was watching me curiously, like a kid might watch a bug. Her smile was gone.

“Some of the kids in our class have been talking. They say you go there at least twice a week,” she said. “And rumors have been flying around left and right. Some kids think you’re doing something illegal, others think you’re meeting a boy there. I’ve even heard a couple say that that’s where you sleep!”

I chuckled a bit at that.

“Well, I suppose it’s exciting for someone to imagine that their pathetically normal class president is living some secret double life. The truth is often disappointing to people, so we naturally cling to rumors and fantasies.”

“That’s logical,” Aikawa said. “I don’t mean to pry into your life, of course, it’s only… You and I aren’t especially close, I know that. But I do care about you, you know? What you do in there is your business, but can you at least promise me you’re keeping yourself safe?”

I blinked.

Aikawa… Cares about me, huh?

If something bad were to happen to me, Aikawa would be sad. She might be the only person I know who feels that way about me. Who else do I even know who might qualify?

Of course, Oshino probably wouldn’t be thrilled if I were to disappear because then I wouldn’t be able to pay off my debts, and my former master would have no one to bring her donuts without me. But those two would be cases of sadness without actual attachment—more akin to disappointment than grief. Like the feeling a mogul might have when one of his key business partners died suddenly.

My parents were completely out of the question.

So that leaves just Aikawa. My junior who looks up to me and idolizes me, who I’ve known for three years out of my total seventeen. I guess I’d better take better care of myself, since I have someone who cares after all.

“Sure. I can promise that.”

Aikawa nodded, smiling.

“Good, thanks. I really appreciate it. Especially when I was rude enough to pry into the private life of my class representative…”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Aikawa-san. I can’t fault you for your curiosity; if I were in your position, I’m sure I’d be asking myself the same questions. There are things I can’t share, but I will tell you that that cram school is perfectly safe, and that I am in no current or future danger.”

Aikawa nodded, again.

There was a limit to how long I could last feeding my classmates bits and pieces of the truth, but for right now, Aikawa seemed satisfied. She wasn’t the type to pry, after all.

“Well, thanks for indulging me. You really are the best, you know that? Now though, I ought to be leaving,” she said, grabbing her bag.

“Have a nice evening,” I told her. “And make sure to hurry home. You’ll want to be back before sundown. And don’t forget to prepare the activities for the English club tomorrow! Also, the printer in the student council room is out of ink—”

“Yes, class rep!” she called sarcastically as she pranced out the door and around the corner. There came a small “Eep!” from outside as Aikawa apparently walked right into someone. I would later learn that this someone was none other than Senjougahara Hitagi herself, who was waiting outside the door for my conversation to conclude.

At the time, however, I thought nothing of this. Aikawa had a clumsy streak, and was known to walk into walls and doors in her hurry to get to class. Organized but frazzled, that was Aikawa.

So there was no reason to suspect that anything was amiss.

None the wiser, I let my gaze wander to the window, where the sun had just begun to kiss the horizon.

To be perfectly honest, Senjougahara had been on my mind since long before the incident in the stairwell. Ever since the senior class rosters were posted, and I realized I’d be sharing a classroom with Naoetsu’s infamous loner-princess, I’ve been wondering.

I’ve often thought it must be lonely to be Senjougahara Hitagi. Obviously, she wouldn’t disagree; she’s clearly the type of person who can tolerate long bouts of loneliness. Still, highschool is the last opportunity to reinvent oneself before adulthood. And when I think about Senjougahara, and how she appeared exactly the same every time I saw her for two whole years, I can’t help but feel a bit melancholy on her behalf.

It was an unproductive thought.

I swung my bag over my shoulder, and made for the door. I certainly didn’t want to go home quite yet, so maybe I’ll take myself out to eat, and get to work on my assignments? That sounded like the most enjoyable use of my time.

The beginnings of a plan for the evening kicking around in my head, I exited the classroom with a spring in my step—and was immediately stopped by a hand roughly grabbing the collar of my shirt. I opened my mouth to scream, but quickly felt the cold sting of metal against the inside of my cheek.

There, less than a foot away from me, was the girl who’d been running circles through my head all day.

Senjougahara’s eyes peered into me, and her hand maneuvered a boxcutter with practiced precision.

I kept very still, wary of the blade poised in the corner of my mouth.

“No screaming now. Or I will cut you.” Senjougahara’s voice was like a breath of wind: airy and noncommittal. It had all the pedigree of one who was accustomed to being listened to, but none of the decisiveness, like a queen voicing a passing whim.

I made to nod my head yes, but realized I would likely cut myself trying. I managed to cough out a strangled vocalization that vaguely resembled an affirmative. Seeming to accept this, Senjougahara nodded in satisfaction.

“Good. I appreciate your cooperation, class representative.” No inflection. And her gaze was cold enough to make me shiver. “Now, I’m sure you have some idea as to what this is about. My weight. And that stunt you pulled the other day. A concept like this is surely above the heads of people like you, but sometimes it’s better not to break the girl’s fall.”

Upon hearing her words, and feeling her cruel gaze, I came to the conclusion that I have been horribly and maliciously misled about this girl. A benign bookworm? A multi-talented misanthrope? Give me a break! This woman must be a living nightmare.

Senjougahara chuckled as though she could read my mind.

“Curiosity is like an infestation of termites, don’t you think? They come crawling out of the woodwork to swarm around the parts of myself I want to keep hidden. And they just. Keep. Coming.”

She brandished a stapler seemingly out of nowhere, and pressed it into my other cheek. Tines against the inside of my mouth.

As Senjougahara toyed with me, a horrible headache wracked my brain. So bad I could barely think, and I had to fight not to grit my teeth. I remember. Oshino told me about these during Golden Week. They’re signs that she is close.

I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the pounding in my head to stop. Please, please, please. Not here. Not at school. Not at school not at school not at school!

“Well as long as we’re here, I suppose I could slake your curiosity somewhat.” Senjougahara’s tone suggested we were having a pleasant conversation, but her weapons remained lodged in my mouth. “You see, in the floaty state between middle school and high school, I met a great white crab who came to me in my sleep. No matter where I ran I could not escape it, and when I awoke, I found that my body weighed no more than five kilos.”

A crab? She’d encountered… a crab?

Then it seems I was spot on. For me it had been a cat, but only for the past two weeks. For Senjougahara, for the past two years, it had been a crab. An entire order of magnitude higher.

“What’s that look supposed to mean, hm? You don’t believe me?” Senjougahara mistook my surprise for skepticism. “That only indicates small-mindedness on your part. And besides, it’s not like I need validation from you. All I’ve ever needed from people like you is silence and indifference, and that’s exactly what I’m asking for now. So. Class representative. If you have an ounce of silence and a scrap of indifference in you, would you please give them to me? Say yes if you will. And remain quiet if you want something really fun to happen.”

Having been afforded no other options, I grunted in the affirmative.

“Ah. Very good,” Senjougahara murmured. The boxcutter came out of my mouth, but the stapler remained pressed firmly against the inside of my cheek. Senjougahara hesitated, as if deliberating something, and then clicked the stapler down.

“AAH!”

The staple bit. Hard. The inside of your mouth is one of the most sensitive parts of your body; it has to be, in order to handle food. To summarize, the pain was almost unbearable. So unbearable that I fell into a ball at Senjougahara’s feet, clutching my injured cheek.

“You’ve got a lousy pain tolerance. Please make sure to stay away from me from now on.” I could practically taste the smirk in her voice. “Remember Hanekawa-san, silence and indifference. It’s as they say—curiosity killed the cat.”

And with that, she was gone. My vision swam as I watched her round a corner.

What a dangerous woman. What a misleading classmate. Despite the risks however, I knew my task was far from over. I felt for the staple in my mouth, and grasped it between two fingers.

I squeezed my eyes shut and ripped the staple out of my cheek, cringing as blood leaked into my mouth.

The inside of the mouth is extremely dense in blood vessels. This meant that although the wound might bleed heavily, it would also heal quickly. And just going by feeling, it seemed the staple had only gone through a couple layers of skin—not nearly enough to damage tissue or muscle.

An impromptu medical examination behind me, I shakily got to my feet. My goal for the evening had been made perfectly clear. Get Senjougahara to Oshino’s by any means necessary. So, putting one foot after the other, I began power-walking after her. It would be wrong to run in the hallway, even under these circumstances. And after all, I didn’t have to catch Senjougahara immediately. I only had to head her off before she got to the front doors. I rounded the same corner Senjougahara had, and made for the nearest stairwell; that was the most direct path for someone looking to get down and out of the school as quickly as possible.

My heart was still pounding. I was still hammered and stressed. Turning my attention inward, I allowed myself to think of upcoming assignments I need to get started on, the Cultural Festival, general exams, my parents. Stressors and responsibilities, things I tend not to reserve headspace for when I can help it. I was filling myself with negativity, and before long a splitting headache ripped through my head.

She was here.

“Black Hanekawa-san. I know you’re with me. I don’t know if you can hear me, but I need you. I need your help. I don’t need much from you, just enough to show that girl that I’m like her.” To anyone else, it would look like I was walking around muttering to myself. Because that’s exactly what was happening.

She’d never listened to me before, and I had no reason to think she would now. But amazingly, astonishingly even, I felt something move atop my head. I brushed a hand along my scalp and—

Yup. I’ve got cat ears.

“Thank you. Thank you! You’re the best cat a girl could ever ask for. Good girl, thank you!”

But seriously, what’s going on? She’s never responded to me like that before.

I rounded a corner onto the stairwell just as Senjougahara had reached the bottom. I stood at the top, hands on my hips.

“Well now,” Senjougahara spoke without turning around. “You bounce back pretty quick. I suppose we’re going to have to go to war now, aren’t we?”

“No, we won’t. Please listen to me, Senjougahara-san. I want to help you.”

Senjougahara let out a tired chuckle.

“You have no idea how many people have tried to tell me that. I don’t even think I could count it on two hands.” She reached into the cuffs of her shirt, and brandished a full repertoire of dangerous objects: pencils, scissors, exacto-knives, compasses, pens. Enough for every kid in our class and then some. Seeing her standing there, her back to me, it struck me that I really did have no idea what this person was capable of.

But then she turned to face me, and her eyes flew to the top of my head. To my ears. In an instant, all her weapons and hostility fell away, and her face was crossed by an expression of genuine shock. Her mouth hung open, but no words escaped. We stood there for a long moment, staring into one another.

“You’re… Like me?” Senjougahara murmured, the frown never quite leaving her face.

“But satisfaction brought it back,” I concluded.

“What?”

“That’s the full saying. ‘Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.’”

Senjougahara stared at me for a moment, the barest hint of a smile playing across her face. Then she laughed. A hollow, mirthless laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. And then, for the first time since I met her, she looked at me rather than passed me.

“What did you say your name was?”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Hanekawa-san.” Senjougahara Hitagi was walking beside me. Shoulder to shoulder, the way most girls do when they’re walking home with their friends. To the passing observer, it would look as though she and I were simply a pair of friends heading home together after school. A first for both of us. “I gotta say, this is a pretty good look for you.”

“Oh, thanks.”

She was referring to the beanie that I’d donned before we left school. It was a simple black one that I carry around with me in case something exactly like this should happen. Of course, having an extra pair of ears crammed into such a small hat isn’t exactly comfortable, but it was what it was.

It also wasn’t very stylish, but that was another matter.

Senjougahara had her eyes forward and her posture straight. By her demeanor, you would think this was a perfectly natural affair that she’d done several times already. You’d also probably assume she was leading me.

“Hanekawa-san. I hope you realize the inherent risk involved in spending any amount of time at all with me. Perhaps making me perform such bland and irritating feats as walking around all friendly-like with another girl isn’t the best for your long-term health and wellness.”

“It’s a good opportunity for you,” I said. “With how much time you spend with your nose stuck in a book, I don’t think it’d kill you to spend some quality time with someone else your age. I’d like for you to think of this as an opportunity to make a friend.”

“Your sense of fairness and my sense of retributivism don’t mix. We would be terrible friends.” Senjougahara swung her gaze over to me. “And by the way. You still haven’t told me anything about this man we’re going to see.”

“Alright, fair.”

It occurred to me that saying too much about my relationship with Oshino would spark unwarranted scrutiny from Senjougahara. As well, Oshino had told me to be close-lipped about him around other people. Misanthrope that he is.

“He’s a friend of mine who specializes in dealing with the paranormal. His name is Oshino Meme, and he’s been taking up residence in an old cram school. I met him a few weeks ago, and he was able to help me with my cat problem over Golden Week.”

“Oshino Meme? What a surprisingly cute name for someone who sounds like a grifter. Very moe.”

“You shouldn’t get your hopes up,” I warned her. “He’s really quite a bum. There’s nothing even remotely moe about him.”

My former master was another case. There was a character you’d see in all sorts of mediums.

“What’s an upstanding student like you doing associating with a middle-aged man living in an abandoned school anyway?” Senjougahara asked, a conspiratorial tinge to her voice. “I’m not intruding on anything illicit, am I?”

“Nothing of the sort, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t insinuate that. I suppose “associates” would be a better word for what Oshino and I are.” I kept my reactions muted. Senjougahara was clearly trying to get a reaction out of me, and I saw no reason to give her the satisfaction. Conversation was clearly a game she played to win.

“Can you do that all the time?” she asked. “Sprout cat ears, I mean.”

“No, not all the time. In fact, I’ve never been able to get her to do what I want until now. I really don’t know what to think… Oh, speaking of which, I’d like for you to not tell anyone what you saw earlier. People talk, rumors spread, and scrutiny can be a pain. You put it rather succinctly yourself. ‘Curiosity is like termites,’ I think it was?”

“I won’t share yours if you won’t share mine,” Senjougahara replied. “I suppose that means we’re each other’s secrets, hm?”

I blinked. That was an intimate way of phrasing it.

“I was so surprised,”—she continued—“to see you with something as ridiculous as a pair of cat ears. It was like something you’d see in a trashy manga series, you know? Even more so that it was the work of an oddity—that’s the word you used for it, right?”

“That’s right.”

“What is it?” she asked suddenly. “Your oddity, I mean.”

“Well… Just something I picked up over Golden Week. She’s a cat, of course. She lives up here.” I pointed to my temple. “It was my choice to accept her in. And now, she’s a part of me. Always.”

She’s an outsider. Something foreign—and yet also, something that is, without a doubt, a part of me. My dark side. A part of myself I’ve kept hidden for a while, and that has found a home in her. Or maybe… It’s found a home in me? It’s complicated.

I found her on the road one day after school. During that episode, because it just seemed like the decent thing to do, I buried her. I showed her kindness—though just a smidgen. And that was enough for her to make her home in me.

In any case, no one deserves credit—or blame—for her other than me. It was entirely my choice to take her in, which means it’s no one’s problem other than mine. She’ll be with me, more than likely, for the rest of my life.

“Hm,” Senjougahara sniffed. “How saccharine.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not all of us,” she began, her tone cold, “are lucky enough to go around spewing such inane platitudes about self-discovery and personal growth. Most of us can’t say something like that. Some of us were just plain disadvantaged.”

I looked over at her. Her eyes were fixed forwards, and her expression was sour. She was avoiding eye contact.

“I see. So it was different for you.”

“Yes, it was.”

We were silent for a moment.

“Why?” she finally said.

“Why what?”

“I just can’t understand. Why do you keep the cat around? It’s inconveniencing you, anyone could see that. You didn’t ask for it; it forced itself into your head without your consent. Any reasonable person would feel hatred, if they were you. They’d want to get rid of it. They’d want it out of their head. So why don’t you?”

Hm.

It was a fair question. Not one that I’ve seen much point in asking myself, but I can imagine why she’d be curious.

“I suppose I just don’t see it that way at all.”

She eyed me. “Really?”

I nodded. “When I found the cat, she was scared and dying on the side of the road. She wasn’t looking for a person to torment, she was looking for a place where she felt safe—and that place just happened to be me. I could hate her for that, certainly. But feelings like hatred and fear and revulsion are… Well, they’re really quite foreign to me. And anyway, I think it’s a lot more productive to look at things from a different angle. As easily as I can admit that she’s inconvenienced me, I can also look and understand why she does what she does. So I want to understand her better, because I know that everything she does comes from a place of desperation and loneliness.”

In retrospect, I’m not sure why I felt the need to be so candid with a person I had first spoken to not fifteen minutes ago. Maybe part of me felt like Senjougahara deserved an answer? Maybe part of me felt like after not being able to speak to anyone about it for so long, I owed it to myself to put my feelings into words? Who knows.

I took a deep breath, collected myself. Senjougahara watched me curiously.

“You’re talking about this cat as if you relate to her,” she said. “Are you coming from a place of desperation and loneliness too?”

It was so spot on that I nearly burst out laughing.

“Ah, well. It makes me sound pathetic when you put it like that.”

“You’re the one who put it like that.” Ice cold deadpan. “Are you a desperate, lonely person, Hanekawa-san? You can tell me if you are, I won’t tell a soul.”

Ugh, I can’t believe this.

“Fine, I give up. I suppose you could say yes.”

“Well, you’re in good company then. Desperate, lonely things have a way of finding one-another. That’s true for you and your cat, but also for us.” There was a pause. “As for what you said about learning to understand your cat, I can understand it. You enjoy providing for the weak, that just seems to be the kind of person you are. But that’s not the kind of person I am. This thing living in me isn’t human, it doesn’t care for me, and it’s proven itself worthy of my scorn, so I want it out of me as soon as possible. Surely you can understand that much?”

What a willful person. And how confident—it made me respect her even more.

“Yeah, I can. Thank you, Senjougahara-san.”

“For what?”

“For helping me broaden my perspective.” I smiled at her, and her face hardened as if by reflex. She didn’t say anything else—just turned away and continued walking, and for the time being, that was that.

~~~~~~~~~~

About a half-hour walk from Naoetsu High is a run-down cram school, the current abode of one Oshino Meme. It’s a gutted and decrepit old place, a looming tombstone in an otherwise lively neighborhood. The cram school apparently went out of business after larger, better-funded schools were built all around town. It had stood eerie and empty for a few years after the fact, and eventually the city stopped paying for upkeep. The school fell into disrepair, and for a while the only people who used it were those desperate and homeless looking for a roof over their heads. Now, the school caters to desperate people of a different sort.

“Eikou Cram School,” Senjougahara said, reading the sign out front. “You took me on a thirty-minute excursion for this?”

There was a nine-foot fence towering over both our heads. The place was decked in warning signs. Danger, keep out, private property, and the like. Signs that Oshino had, after much pushback, convinced me were safe to ignore.

“How do you get in? I don’t suppose you want me to climb the fence?”

“That’s how I used to do it, but it became too much of a hassle.” I swept aside a tarp to reveal a hole in the fence I’d made with wire cutters about three weeks prior. “So now we use this.”

Senjougahara looked at me quizzically, as if trying to size me up.

“You’ve surprised me, Hanekawa-san. I would truly have never suspected someone of your disposition to be a complete and utter delinquent. What’s next? Are you going to ask me to mug someone with you?”

“Okay, you can stop making fun of me now,” I said, getting on my hands and knees to crawl through the opening. “If Oshino would let me meet him in a coffee shop, I’d do that too.”

I crawled through the hole and turned to see if Senjougahara needed any help, only to find her eying the top of the fence.

“You can just climb through. I’ll help.”

The words had scarcely left my mouth before Senjougahara reached an arm up, and swung herself up and over the fence with only one hand. One knee over the other, like a professional pole-vaulter. A climb that once took me a minute and a half, cleared in seconds! Senjougahara landed delicately next to me, not having even broken a sweat. She shot me a frigid glance, and I realized my mouth was hanging open.

“How did you— you jumped?” was all I could force myself to say.

“Tends to be easier when one weighs next to nothing. Now come along, daylight’s burning.” Senjougahara turned on her heel and beckoned me with two fingers. The way one would a pet.

“Hey, wait!” I picked myself up and hurried after Senjougahara, who was practically power walking her way to the front doors. She was walking so quickly and forcefully that I’d believe she was intentionally trying to outpace me. I did my best to match her stride, but her legs were just too long and I found myself in an awkward half-jog in an attempt to keep pace with her.

“I was so curious,” Senjougahara began, peering at me over her shoulder, “to learn about our school's famed class president. A class president among class presidents was what I was told, but the impression I’ve gotten is more of a mud stain among mud stains. You know what you do with mud stains, Hanekawa-san?”

“Wash them gently?” I guessed.

“Destroy them utterly, you mean. Which is what I’ll do to you at the first sign that this is anything other than a friendly chit-chat. I trust we’re clear there?”

“Crystal,” I huffed. “Though, you really do operate on a hair trigger, don’t you, Senjougahara-san? I think it’d do wonders for your mood if you lightened up and started taking things as they come.”

“If a rapist about to assault you said that, would you believe him?”

“Is that what Oshino and I are?!”

“Well, no clue, but it’s not a chance I’m prepared to take, so you’d both better be careful around me.”

“No, see, Senjougahara-san, this is exactly the kind of thinking—”

She stopped in her tracks so abruptly I nearly walked right into her. We were in front of the doors leading inside, but Senjougahara had made no move to climb the steps. She was doubled over, her hands on her knees, taking deep, heavy breaths.

“Woah, hey.” I put a hand on her shoulder, but she swatted it away.

“I’m fine,” she spat. She was sweating profusely—she had one hand over her chest. She shakily rose to her full height. “I don’t need you. I’m fine.”

Was it the jump? When she swung herself up and over the fence? I’d barely noticed, but it did seem her gait was a little shaky as she walked.

“Senjougahara—”

“It’s my condition,” she said evenly, her breath stabilizing. “I’m a tenth my usual weight, so…”

“Oh.” Of course. A tenth the weight means a tenth the mass. Hitting the ground at that speed and then breaking into a brisk walk so suddenly… To speak nothing of the impact, she probably didn’t have enough red blood cells to provide oxygen for an activity like that.

Of course. That’s what it means to have a condition like that. And more than likely, the only reason she’d jumped was because she didn’t want to get on her hands and knees and leave herself prone to attack.

Geez, I’d better think more carefully about how I behave around this girl. I can’t have her overexerting herself and keeling over on my account.

I asked her if she hadn’t sprained her ankles too, but seeing as she’d just walked nearly twenty meters with no ill effects, asking may have been pointless. She pulled away from me, assuring me that she was fine and that I shouldn’t worry.

It was hard not to, but Senjougahara surely wasn’t the type to appreciate excessive performative worry, so I relented. At the very least, she didn’t seem for the moment to be damaged.

Not one to dwell on a moment of weakness, Senjougahara changed the subject as soon as she was able. “What a dump. It’s even worse up close.”

I peered over her shoulder. She was staring up at the smashed windows and powdering mortar that made up the facade of the old school. She was right. There were certainly better accommodations out there. But to a guy like Oshino, nothing else would do, or so I’ve been told over and over again.

I walked ahead of her, and up the steps to the front of the school.

“Now before we go in,” I said, turning to face her as I reached the doors. “I’m going to need you to tell me exactly how many weapons you have on you right now.”

Senjougahara’s eyes brightened, as though she had been waiting for me to ask exactly that. “I have one-hundred and thirty five, one for every named star in the western zodiac cycle.”

How specific. I felt as if I’d been told something important.

“...Okay, understood. Before I take you to see Oshino, I’m going to need you to give me all of them. It’s rude, you see, to converse with someone you don’t know while fingering hidden weapons. It diminishes the quality of a conversation, not to mention the fact that I can’t in good conscience introduce Oshino to someone who has the potential to do him harm.”

Senjougahara’s thin smile grew wider.

“How cruel. You’d ask the sky to give up her stars?”

“To ensure the safety of my friends? Yes,” I replied. Senjougahara held my gaze for a while, as if testing me. Then she stared at her feet, the sky, and the side of the building as if looking for an answer that wasn’t there.

“Alright. Take them,” she finally said. Then, she began brandishing a myriad of stationery and handing them to me. Pens and staplers and box cutters and scissors. It was like she had her own personal hammerspace. All told, my bag had nearly doubled in weight by the end of it.

Senjougahara bounced on her heels a couple times. She looked lighter.

“This doesn’t mean I’ve let my guard down for you,” Senjougahara murmured. “Blades aren’t a woman’s only weapon, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Even so, I appreciate the gesture,” I held out a hand, choosing to ignore her comment. “Shall we?”

Senjougahara brusquely waved my hand away. “Lead the way.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Oshino Meme made his home in a small but cozy classroom on the third floor, with windows overlooking the front entrance. This allowed him to survey the comings and goings of the cram school like a gatekeeper, so he almost certainly had seen Senjougahara and me approach. Even from halfway down the hall, I could smell cigarette smoke pouring out from the old classroom.

I gently pushed the door open, and a plume of smoke hit me right in the sinuses. I entered the room waving a hand about my face.

“Yo! It’s Class Prez!” Oshino’s face rumbled from atop the pyramid of desks he’d constructed for himself. It was meant to be a throne, or perhaps a seat. Or perhaps he just got bored, and there’s nothing to do in this old school but stack rotting desks into interesting shapes.

“Oshino. It’s a pleasure. You look well,” I said, a bit hoarse from all the smoke.

The man was exactly as I remembered him; wild, intelligent eyes peering out from beneath a mop of straw-colored hair like prairie grass after a fire. A pink Hawaiian shirt with stains from last night’s dinner, and a lit cigarette poking out from unshaven lips. Unkempt and unpolished, just the way he liked himself.

But the recent weeks hadn’t treated him well at all. He was unbelievably thin and pale, with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. It wouldn’t take a genius to tell you he was suffering from intense starvation. Even despite my constant donut runs, he wouldn’t—couldn’t—bring himself to eat anything at all.

That’s my fault too.

“Woah, Class Prez. Slow down. What happened to you?” Despite his condition, he said these words.

He was referring, of course, to my beanie. He knew what was under them.

After all, he’d been the one to rescue me the first time it happened. He was the one who knew the most about the Sawari-Neko, and it’s thanks to his expertise that I’m still around. I owe him quite a fair bit.

“I had an episode,” I said, pulling my beanie off. “Here, take a look.”

“Hm?” Oshino looked startled. Senjougahara also had an apprehensive look on her face.

“What is it?” I felt at the top of my head. “Oh!”

They were gone. I didn’t have cat ears anymore.

They’d disappeared—which meant she had disappeared with them. Gone back to sleep, that is.

“I had them just half an hour ago, I swear.”

“It’s true. I saw them,” Senjougahara said, her expression hard to read.

I silently thanked her for it.

“Hm,” Oshino mumbled, his chin in his hand. “Well that’s unprecedented. I’ve never known a Sawari-Neko to behave like that before. Either they’re out or they’re in—they’re not very indecisive creatures. Wonder what’s got this one in such a funny mood?”

“Well, I might be able to answer that,” I said. “It’s all thanks to Senjougahara-san here, really. She put me in a rather difficult position, and I… Knowing I needed to get her here… I asked the cat for help. I asked her to let Senjougahara-san see— And then she gave me ears.”

“Ah,” Oshino grinned. “So that’s what it was. That cat has really taken a liking to you, Class Prez. I’ve never seen someone get chummy with a neko so quickly. I did tell you though, didn’t I? About how dangerous it is to think of monsters as your friends? They’re not meant to be empathized with, you know.”

“You’ve made your opinion known,” I said, rather evasively. “But who am I if not someone who empathizes?”

“Eh, you’re just a stuck-up.” He smiled like he’d seen it coming. He always acted that way—like he knew exactly what was about to happen. Then he turned his focus towards Senjougahara. “Ah, but today won’t be about Class Prez, will it? You’ve got the look of someone whose problems outweigh everyone else’s. Good to meetcha, little miss. I’m Oshino.”

He always called me that. Class Prez. Iinchou-chan.

“Pleasure to meet you too. I’m Senjougahara Hitagi.”

Despite her reservations, she managed to give a respectable introduction.

“Nice,” Oshino said. He’s never been good with formality, so I guess it’s fine. “If you’re gonna be spending time with us from now on, the first thing you gotta know is that our Class Prez here is a complete and total stuck-up.” He flicked a cigarette butt at me, but it fell a couple paces short. I threw him a dirty look in return.

“Before we proceed,” Senjougahara cut in, clearly losing her patience with us. “Let me ask you both something. What’s the deal with that girl over there?”

She pointed to the corner of the room, where a lonely girl sat crouched in the shadows. She was so innocuous-looking that you’d be forgiven for not noticing her upon entering the room. Which I suppose is just me making excuses for myself.

To the average observer, she would look no older than sixteen or seventeen—our age. Her blonde hair spilled out from beneath a plain aviator hat. Compared to Oshino, she was quite healthy. Although on the thin side, her cheeks and torso bore none of the same indicators of malnutrition as Oshino. She was staring at him with her big, golden eyes. Curious, mournful, and perhaps somewhat hungry. The eyes were the only part of her that suggested the beautiful demon she used to be.

“That’s no one,” I said. “No one at all. She’s just a kid now, with no name. She won’t bother you if you don’t bother her.”

“Hold on, Class Prez. It’s true that she’s only a kid, but I gave her a name just yesterday. Oshino Shinobu (忍). Written with the radical for ‘heart’ under the character for ‘sword’. Fitting, yeah?”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked, maybe a bit too quickly. “You told me over Spring Break that a name is one of the things that accounts for half of a being’s identity. The other two are a thing’s form and truth, though those account for only a fourth each. If you give her a name… Won’t that make her too powerful?”

Oshino shrugged. It probably wasn’t a thing to shrug at, but he did it anyway.

“She worked hard for it. I wouldn’t have been able to subdue you over Golden Week if it hadn’t been for her. I think helping you out for free is a good enough reason to give her one half of her former grandeur. Of course, Shinobu is a much shorter and much more diluted version of her previous name. It’s not like she can really wreak any havoc with a name as short and weak as Shinobu.”

“I suppose that’s true.” But it didn’t make me any less uneasy. “Like I said, Senjougahara-san. She’s no one worth wondering about.”

Just a figment of my past. And someone who’s problems I’ve been relieved of duty of.

Someone I’d rather not look at.

“Hm. Fine.” Senjougahara reluctantly tore her attention away from the girl. “In any case, Oshino-san, I was told you’d be able to save me. I don’t like how much time has been wasted already, so we should begin immediately.”

Oshino playfully clicked his tongue. “Ah, see. There’s our first misconception right there. You’ll have to save yourself all on your own, little miss. I can guide you down the path, but you’ll recover of your own free will. I don’t claim to be a miracle-worker, you understand?”

Senjougahara’s eyes narrowed.

I found myself silently chiding. That was the wrong thing to say, Oshino.

“I have had five different people say five different variations of that to me over the years. Every single one of them was a con-artist.” Her voice took a dangerous edge here. “I’m not dealing with another con-artist, am I, Oshino-san?”

“You sure are sassy, little miss.” Oshino grinned, not the slightest bit fazed. “But I’m afraid your little grandstanding schtick doesn’t do it for me. All you’re really doing is pinching at my toes. It’s a bother, but it doesn’t worry me. All I can wonder is whether or not something good happened to you!” He cackled at his own words, which only made Senjougahara’s scowl deepen. I considered stepping in, but the situation didn’t seem to be devolving into violence quite yet. So I stood by. “But, little miss, you gotta tell me, cuz I’m eager to hear; how’d you wind up as a— You know. A possessee?”

A weakling.

A victim.

Senjougahara stood stock still as if the words were echoing around her.

“It was during summer, two years ago. The summer after my final year of junior high. A giant white crab came to me in my sleep one day. When I woke up the next day, my sheets felt unbearably heavy, and when I went to weigh myself, I found I weighed only five kilos. Ever since that day, I have never weighed an ounce more than that.”

It was a bit of an incomplete story. In fact it was barely more than what she told me back at school. But Oshino nodded and stroked his chin nevertheless, as though he’d just been told something weighty and profound.

“Yes, yes. I thought as much. It’s an Omoshi-kani—a heavy stone crab. A creature of legend, that is, a creature of folklore. Stories. It’s thought to originate from the mountains of Kyushu, though I think Chubu and Miyazaki have their own versions. Depending on where you meet it and who you talk to, it might be called a weight crab, stone-weight crab, or Omoishi-gami. The details vary, but the one thing all these stories have in common is that it’s thought to be able to reduce the weight of a person down to a fraction of what it should be.”

“Omoshi-kani,” Senjougahara mumbled, as if tasting the words on her tongue.

“It’s not a harmful kami,” Oshino continued. “In fact, it’s thought to be benign. And for the majority of people who encounter one, they wouldn’t experience anything at all. The crab would come into and out of your life without leaving so much as a trace.”

It wasn’t harmful, or malicious.

Senjougahara folded her arms. “What does that mean for me?”

“Only that there was some shift in perspective on your behalf,” Oshino said. “But I imagine you already know that. It’s not something for the Class Prez and I to know until later.” Senjougahara looked none too happy. He’d put his finger on it, hadn’t he? “Well. Enough of my rambling. You want to regain your weight, and I am in a position to help you. Which means the ball is on my side of the court. I’ve decided, little miss, that I will help you. Hanekawa here referred you to me, so it’s really a done deal.”

“Then you’re— going to help me?”

“That’s right. Only helping. We’ll start later tonight.”

Senjougahara wore a cautiously hopeful expression. I would have congratulated her were we not interrupted by a girlish giggle coming from the corner of the room. It had come from Shinobu, who was now looking at me rather than Oshino. A pearly white grin graced her features, as crisp and clean as the edge of a sword. She laughed again, sharp and clear, and I felt as though my heart had been sliced in twain.

"So do not fear, for I am with you. Do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand," Shinobu recited, her voice expanding to fill the room. As she spoke, her ironclad gaze remained firmly on me. “Remember this, kitten. You are far too generous.”

She got to her feet, and ambled across the room to where Oshino sat. She got up onto the desk next to him, and rested her chin on his shoulder.

“I’m hungry.”

“Yes, yes. I know. I’ll feed you soon,” Oshino grinned at her with a dry warmth that passed for fatherliness with him. They were like this a lot, the two of them.

After all. There’s a reason Oshino never goes out during the day, and a reason the two of them are inseparable, and a reason Shinobu never talks to me. I’m the great shirker of responsibilities, the one who let Oshino dive in front of the bus for me, only to immediately end up face-to-face with a demon cat.

In that fatherly grin of Oshino’s, clearly visible were two elongated canines, emblems of that loathsome curse I’d saddled him with.