1 : Hitagi Crab, Part 1 Today

Senjougahara hesitated, the first crack appearing in her porcelain mask. For the first time in years, the girl who had lost everything to a silent god faced the possibility of feeling the weight of the world once again.

She explained it with a chilling detachment. Three years ago, she had met a "crab." A god. And it had taken her weight. Not just her body mass, but the gravity of her memories and the burden of her past. She was a ghost in a living body.

"I know someone who can help," he said, ignoring the blade in his mouth. "A man named Oshino Meme. He’s a specialist in 'oddities.' He helped me when I stopped being human. Let me take you to him." 1 : Hitagi Crab, Part 1

The encounter haunted him. Koyomi knew about weight—not just physical mass, but the weight of sins and secrets. He had spent his spring break descending into a supernatural hell, and though he appeared human now, he still carried the lingering traits of a vampire. He knew when a "curse" was at work.

Instead of recoiling, Koyomi looked her in the eye. He didn't see a monster; he saw someone who was drowning in a vacuum. Senjougahara hesitated, the first crack appearing in her

The impact should have knocked the wind out of him. He expected the heavy thud of a teenage girl, the strain on his muscles, perhaps a tumble to the floor. Instead, Hitagi Senjougahara landed in his arms with the sickening lightness of a dried leaf. She felt like nothing. She felt like a handful of feathers wrapped in a school uniform.

Koyomi looked down at the girl in his arms. Senjougahara was the school’s "sickly" beauty, a girl who kept everyone at a distance with a clinical, icy aura. But as she stared back at him, her eyes weren't filled with gratitude; they were filled with a terrifying, hollowed-out stillness. "You're... light," Koyomi managed to whisper. Three years ago, she had met a "crab

Later that afternoon, Senjougahara cornered him in a deserted corridor. Before he could speak, he felt the cold, jagged edge of a utility knife pressed against the inside of his cheek, and the sharp point of a stapler biting into his skin.