Zoku Owarimonogatari – Episode 6

Alright Araragi, it’s time to figure this shit out. As I’ve suspected and Hanekawa seemed to confirm, this world we’ve been exploring is less of an alternate reality than an internal one; a product of Araragi’s mind, as he desperately seeks an answer to that fundamental question of “who am I, now that my childhood and pre-scripted path are behind me?” In search of that truth, he has held discussions with disparate versions of many of his companions, but avoided the one person who might truly know him well enough to answer: Oshino Ougi, his own Other Self.

As with all of this world’s Oddities, Ougi has served as a container for all the feelings Araragi refuses to acknowledge, a shadow that is as authentically him as his surface personality. His self-hatred and obsession with his own destruction, his lingering regrets regarding the possibilities of his vampiric nature, even his inability to visualize himself as an authentic and consistent person are all realized through Ougi’s mercurial presence. Araragi has come to accept Ougi’s authenticity as a part of him, but has nonetheless avoided their input in this crucial moment. As Sodachi said, what we see in the mirror is only a partial reproduction – Araragi is incomplete without Ougi, so it’s no wonder he’s only been able to produce incomplete answers. With his two sides united at last, let’s see how this strange mirror tale ends!

Episode 6

The fact that this confrontation is taking place in the same classroom that Ougi froze before means the team can just take advantage of the previously rendered CG background, facilitating ambitious panning cuts like this spinning cut that rises up and across Ougi

In general, post-Kizu portions of Monogatari have all embraced a more significant degree of digital integration. I don’t think that’s so much an intentionally Kizu-derivative stylistic choice as a reflection of Monogatari’s shifting production circumstances; post-Bake series mainstay Tomoyuki Itamura has at this point stopped directing the franchise, and SHAFT in general have been hemorrhaging talent for years now, so a greater reliance on existing CG resources is at this point presumably a necessity

Araragi describes this place as “the ghost of a classroom,” just as Ougi was essentially the ghost of a classmate

“Well, this is just a joke. Though, that was also a joke.” Two separate arcs of Araragi being trapped in pocket dimensions, cavalierly described as “jokes” by their creator. This is another aspect of Araragi that he’s unhappy to admit to – how his frivolous attitude can at times extend into actual malice, and how he often laughingly disregards how his actions will negatively affect others

“You’re such a fool. Granted, that’s one of your good points.” A very cheeky line from Ougi – it’s clear that Araragi considers his foolishness one of his good points, because if not, that quality would generally be realized in Ougi rather than Araragi

Knowing Araragi would likely get himself killed, it was actually Ougi who requested Black Hanekawa save him. Another aspect of his personality that he tends to deny: his genuine intelligence, which he generally waves away in order to continue playing the fool

“I’m thinking too much, maybe. But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t think.” “There’s a limit to how much logic can help you deduce, you know.” Even though they’re speaking directly on the question of engaging with this mirror reality, their exchanges also correspond to the deeper question Araragi’s asking himself, with Ougi’s response of “you can’t logic yourself into the correct life path” cutting even more deeply in that field

“This is the end, don’t worry. I promise this won’t be just another step on your journey.” It’s seeming like Ougi engineered this whole arc situation just to get an honest conversation out of Araragi

“What if everything that happened in the past year was a dream? What would you do then?” A question that seems designed to kick Araragi in the butt, and force him to acknowledge the ways his experiences have shaped him. “Who are you, Araragi” isn’t a question without precedent – he’s been proving who Araragi is all throughout the last year, and graduating from high school isn’t going to change that. Embracing Ougi was a far more critical threshold than the end of high school could ever be

“If it was all a dream, I’d say ‘what a nice dream,’ stretch, and live out today in a good mood, no doubt.” What a great answer – he’s not desperately clinging to the individual events of the past, he’s content to move beyond that, carrying their lessons forward rather than attempting to live within them

“That’s the answer of my dreams. Time to retract that hypothesis, then.” Oh Ougi, always taking the longest and most confrontational route to your destination. It’s easy to see the Araragi in them, as well as Oshino’s influence

“Ougi, what exactly do you know?” “I know nothing. You’re the one who knows everything, Araragi. And understanding it is probably your responsibility too.” Yep. We’re past the point of Araragi being able to foist any difficult or uncomfortable pieces of information off on Ougi. Only he can complete the full picture of who he is and what he wants, regardless of how difficult actually choosing those things may be

“Since you seemed so intent on flirting with Oikura and treating this world like a vacation, I got mad and switched our uniforms around.” Even when trapped in a prison of his own making, Araragi still refused to take this conversation seriously

Ougi confirms that they are indeed Araragi’s Ougi, and not a doppelganger created by this world. This story wouldn’t make a bit of sense otherwise, so that’s a relief

“You’re just jumping to conclusions. However, I can’t say I dislike that overeager side of you.” Ougi is having so much fun now that their true nature has been revealed, complimenting Araragi on all the parts of their collective identity that he chose to keep for himself. Araragi was never proud of his capacity for cold and cunning deduction, so he passed that to Ougi, keeping this overeager earnestness for himself

“You didn’t come to a mirror world, you pulled a mirror world out of the mirror.” Aw jeez. So Araragi’s kindness, that instinct towards total empathy that once made him offer his life to a vampire he’d just met, has once again reared its head in creating this warped reality. It’s a clever fusion of something new and something we’ve always known – when presented with the fact that choosing his future self would naturally imply the death of many other potential selves, he elected to try and save them by pulling them through the mirror

“You need to be more careful, Araragi. You’re a man who commands a legendary vampire, is on very friendly terms with a god, and is the same person as me, who holds all qualities of all oddities.” Jeez, when you put it like that, Ougi. Whatever path Araragi chooses, he’s invested with an extraordinary degree of supernatural responsibility

“It’s me, Araragi Koyomi, tilting at windmills like I always do.” It seems like he might actually be starting to get it!

Ougi assures him that they can fix the town, but “please be careful from now on. Don’t forget that the specialists consider us people they need to keep an eye on.” Love this idea of Ougi actually becoming the protective side of Araragi, making sure he remembers to keep their collective demon-haunted self out of trouble

“Gaen probably left Tooe here because she was a bitter memory.” So that’s how Gaen moves forward, by relegating Tooe’s fate to the 20% of data lost in the mirror. A fine metaphor for how we handle intolerable memories

Ougi categorizes all of the other fragments here as “things their bearers have forgotten or wanted to forget”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if Kanbaru had dreams of Tooe for a while after this.” Once again setting up Hanamonogatari

“This time, I functioned as your failsafe. It proves there was value in keeping me alive.” Oh, Ougi. Their existence must be a painful one, saddled as they are with every feeling Araragi found too difficult to bear

“I want to move on.” He at last utters the magic words. “I want to go home” implies a return to normalcy, but there is no reliable routine waiting for him this time. He must choose to move on, and strike boldly out towards a new life

And Ougi reveals the tool that will facilitate their restoration of the world: a disc of total darkness, with a one hundred percent light absorption rate

“They’re regrets that should have just faded away, but I’d say accepting them is part of a god’s job description.” The fading, insubstantial nature of this mirror world’s identities seems like a hopeful thing. It emphasizes how our scars and regrets naturally fade with time; we don’t spend our whole lives litigating the choices we made in high school, and eventually come to accept some accumulations of choices as a new “authentic, fundamental” self. Isin is unsurprisingly one of the few anime scholars of adolescent psychology to embrace the fact that these trials are both impermanent and ultimately a little trivial

Unfortunately, Araragi still doesn’t understand exactly why he pulled all these regrets and lost hopes out of the mirror. One step at a time

Ougi offers a final hint in the form of a question: “Just who are you?”

The next day, Araragi relates his tale to Senjougahara. “If I had a complaint, I’d say that its message came across too strong.” Goddamnit Isin

In spite of being unimpressed with the story’s theme, she’s very curious to know what mirror-Senjougahara might have been like. I appreciate her general indifference towards random oddity nonsense at this point

When tabulating his regrets, Araragi can think of ways he failed in basically every one of his close relationships. You can’t really halt the accumulation of regrets. A fitting coda for the relentlessly self-reflective Monogatari, emphasizing that real life never ties up every loose end like you expect a story to

Stopped at a traffic light, Araragi offers one final metaphor for his fundamental question, debating which foot to step forward with after the light turns

And it’s of course Senjougahara who pulls him forward, laughing at his concern and leaping forward with both legs

And Done

Aw, what a delightful little epilogue for Monogatari. Isin framed this story as inessential right from the start, but it actually felt like the conclusion Araragi deserved, acknowledging the regrets he’s leaving behind while both literally and metaphorically carrying him forward. The road towards Araragi’s destination was lined with goofy little character moments, whimsical alternate personalities and much-storied minor characters, but the theme was always clear: how we define ourselves when our easy sources of external definition have fallen behind us, and how we move forward and make new self-defining choices with confidence. For Araragi, finding peace with his past ultimately just required having an honest conversation with his full self, while finding peace with his unknown future required the assurance of Senjougahara. Araragi has come to accept the self, and through that act he has gained genuine, earnest intimacy with others. The process of defining the self is an eternal act of metamorphosis and negotiation, but for just this moment, I think we can declare Araragi’s education complete.

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