BAKEMONOGATARI, Part 3: Monster Tale by Nisioisin

Author:Nisioisin [NisiOisiN]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Paranormal, Mystery & Detective, International Mystery & Crime, Occult & Supernatural
ISBN: 9781942993902
Google: rI2dDAEACAAJ
Amazon: 1942993900
Publisher: Vertical
Published: 2017-04-25T04:00:00+00:00

006

It feels like there's no need to go into a flashback after Black Hanekawa such a beginner-friendly explanation of herself, but allow me to invite you to the first day of Golden Week anyway, April twenty-ninth, one morning about a month and a half earlier, in part to help set the Back in the days when my hair was still at a vague and uneasy length as I grew it out to hide the bite marks on my neck.

April twenty-ninth.

Morning.

As someone who hates any day that isn't a regular weekday, I left the house and was wandering around as usual on this holiday, riding around town on my mountain bike, still going strong in those days before Kanbaru destroyed it. Unlike Mother's Day, it felt as if I had a dear destination, but I don't remember very well. And even if I did, the fact that I've forgotten it means it couldn't have been that important.

No.

It meant that what ended up happening while I was on the road—was just too big.

Personally speaking.

So big that everything else ceased to matter.

I just so happened---to come across Hanekawa.

I first got to know Hanekawa over spring break—as I've said many times up until now, it was then she'd saved me.

Both physically and mentally.

I was more grateful for the latter at the time, as I was immortal but in any case, she was my savior.

She'd saved my life, and she'd saved my mind.

She'd been there when I needed her to be.

That's what I think.

I really do.

About as much as I'm glad that I happened to be standing on the landing that day Senjogahara slipped on the stairs—I'm really, truly glad that it was her, Tsubasa Hanekawa, there at that moment, and not anyone else.

Anyone else and I'd never have been saved.

I'd have never been released from hell.

Hanekawa and I ended up in the same class after spring break. She forced me into the position of class vice president. She put me under her management because of her mistaken assumption that I was a delinquent, and that was her way of rehabilitating me. There isn't any way she was planning to help me with my studies at the time—and normally I'd have shoved her away and told her to get her nose out of my business.

There's nothing I dislike more than people who seem to impose on me because of a big, fat misunderstanding.

But I accepted it.

Because she was Hanekawa.

So after that—over the month of April—Hanekawa and I, as class president, as class vice president, and as class president and vice president, began to get along to some degree as we made arrangements for school events and class matters. I hadn't done anything that felt like it in a while, and I found myself getting uncharacteristically into it—so, of course.

If I saw Hanekawa walking around in her uniform on a holiday, I'd say hello to her at least.

It was the normal thing to do.

But I flinched for a moment.

A large white piece of gauze concealed what felt like half of Tsubasa Hanekawa's face as she walked there on the street.

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