It happened during spring break.
I was attacked by a vampire.
In this day and age of real, working maglev trains, where overseas school trips are nothing unusual, it's embarrassing enough to make me want to go into hiding, but regardless, I was attacked by a vampire.
She was blood-chillingly gorgeous.
A beautiful demon.
She was—such a beautiful demon.
Though they're concealed behind the collar of my uniform's jacket, the traces of her deep bite still remain on my neck. I'm hoping that my hair will grow out before it gets hot out, but putting that aside— usually, when regular people get attacked by a vampire, the story goes that they're saved by an expert vampire hunter, by Christianity's special forces, or perhaps even by a vampire-slaying vampire who hunts its own kind, but in my case, I was saved by a shabby old dude who happened to be passing by.
Thanks to him, I was somehow able to turn back into a human— fine again with sunlight, crosses, garlic, and such, but the effect, or rather, the aftereffect the experience had on me was a remarkable improvement in my physical abilities. Not my athletic abilities, mind you, but like my metabolism, in the way of recuperating, While I don't know how I would've ended up if the box cutter had ripped my cheek apart, it takes less than thirty seconds to heal something like a simple staple through my flesh. At any rate, to begin with, wounds in the oral cavity tend to heal quickly for any organism.
"Oshino---a Mister Oshino?"
"Right. Oshino."
Oshino, huh—quite an adorable-sounding name, I have to say."
"You shouldn't get your hopes up on that count. He's a weathered middle-aged, thirty-something."
"I see. But as a kid, he must have been quite a moé character."
"Don't look at flesh-and-blood people like that. And wait, do you even know what that word means?"
"It's a part of common learning these days," Senjogahara said blithely. "And you call characters like me tsundere, right? Cold and mean at first, but loving once you get to know me?"
With how cold she was, "tundra" suited her better.
But I digress.
About twenty minutes by bicycle from Naoetsu Private High
School, which Hanekawa, Senjogahara, and I attended, stands a cram
school slightly separated from any homes.
Stood.
Apparently, a few years ago, it took the full brunt of a big cram school chain setting up shop in front of the station, ran into financial troubles, and went out of business. By the time I learned of the four-story building's existence, though, it was an abandoned ruin through and through, so all this is second-hand info.
Danger.
Private Property.
No Trespassing.
Despite a plethora of such signs and the Safety First fence surrounding it, access is as good as unrestricted thanks to all the gaps.
In these ruins—lives Oshino.
He's taken up residence, without permission.
For an entire month now, starting during spring break.
"God, my bottom hurts. It's numb. And my skirt got wrinkled," Senjogahara said.
“Not my fault."
"Stop trying to talk your way out of this, or I'll lop it off."
"Which body part?!"
“It’s my first time riding on a bicycle with someone else. Can't you be a little more generous?"
Wasn't generosity hostile behavior for her?
Everything this girl said and did was beyond the pale.
"So, how exactly might I have tried?" I asked.
"Well, as a small suggestion, couldn't you have given me your bag to use as a cushion?"
"Do you not give a crap about anyone other than yourself?"
"Please, don't use such rude language with me. I said it was only a small suggestion.
How did repeating that make it any better?
It was most questionable.
"You know, I bet even Marie Antoinette was a little more modest and humble than you," I said.
"She's something like my disciple," Senjogahara replied.
"In what timeline?!"
"I wish you'd stop casually riffing off of everything I say. You're acting like we're buddies or something. Listening to you, a stranger might even think that we're classmates."
We are classmates!"
How much was she going to disavow me?
That was just too cold...
"Jeez…” I lamented. "I guess dealing with you requires an unbelievable amount of patience. “
"Araragi, The way you put that, it almost sounds like I'm the one who's hard to get along with, not you,"
That's exactly what I wanted to say,
"Actually, where's your own bag?" I asked her, "You're empty-handed' Do you not carry one?" In fact, I couldn't remember ever seeing Senjogahara carrying anything with her.
“I have all my textbooks stored inside my head. So I just leave in my school locker. If I hide all my stationery around my body, there’s no need for a bag. And in my case, gym clothes are out."
“Ah, I see."
"If both of my hands aren't free, it's harder to fight when the time comes.”
Her entire body was a weapon.
She was a human weapon.
“The only issue I have is with hygiene products because it bothers me to keep them at school. With no friends, I can't borrow them from anyone, either."
“...You're being awfully open about this, you know."
"Why not? Menses is Latin for month. It's a natural phenomenon, nothing to be embarrassed of. I'd say it's more indecent to be furtive about it."
I wasn't so sure about not being at least a little furtive.
No, it was a matter of personal choice.
Not my place to say.
Maybe what I ought to be making a note of instead was her more open admission—that she didn't have any friends.
"Oh, that's right," I said, turning to face her after reaching an “entrance.”