This came to me on a whim while scrolling through tumblr and one of the people I follow lamented the number of stories in this fandom. Well, here's my attempt to add to the pool. Enjoy if you can!

…

If you look at yourself in the mirror and your reflection suddenly asks for advice, what do you do? How would you even respond? Even worse, what if the problem they're seeking advice for is one you've never encountered before? What a novel concept: your own reflection having problems that have nothing to do with you.

Then again, I feel like it's common to fantasize about a version of yourself whose life is completely different—different school; different friends; even a different gender. They wouldn't have any of the problems you yourself face. But logically speaking, this fantasy version of yourself would simply have different problems from you. So I suppose, in a way, it's not actually that novel of a concept after all.

But I'm getting off topic. What advice does one give to their reflection?

Just to be clear, I'm not trying to be philosophical by asking this—I'm being completely literal. My shadow jumped me in the middle of the night and asked for help. I heard her out, of course, but I didn't feel particularly qualified for it. I was hesitant the entire time we spoke. For those who know me, that might sound out of character. I never hesitate to help people.

I have a reason for that hesitation, but I'm unsure if that reason is reasonable.

If you're willing to indulge me, I can tell you the story. Actually, perhaps it's more of an anecdote.

An anecdote about a conversation I had with Oshino Ougi.

…

It was late when I awoke suddenly, wide-eyed, with a rumbling in my stomach. Hunger. I felt hunger, the likes of which I had not experienced in years, lifetimes, perhaps even a whole six hours. It was a hunger that would lead to me devouring gods, gaining their power, then spitting them out like a deadly projectile because they tasted awful. It was a hunger that I was entirely convinced was caused by Shinobu craving the contents of the Mister Donut take-out box I left in the fridge for my sisters. I needed to sate that hunger. Even if it meant eating the donuts that were no longer mine to eat.

I made my way to the kitchen.

"Araragi-senpai!"

My impromptu staring match with the contents of the fridge abruptly ended when I heard a voice behind me.

To say I jumped out of my skin in surprise would be an exaggeration. I distinctly remember what the sensation of not having skin is like and I don't believe surprise in itself would be able to evoke that feeling. At the same time, if it were possible for surprise alone to do so, then the surprise I felt in that moment may well have caused such loss of skin.

That is to say, I was utterly shocked, and whirled around to the source of that voice.

Oshino Ougi sat on the kitchen counter, smiling, watching me.

"Did you know," she began, "that a common punishment for theft during the Edo period was flogging? The criminal would suffer up to one hundred lashes depending the worth of what was stolen and the importance of the person stolen from. Don't you think that's interesting, Araragi-senpai?"

She leaned forward, putting her elbows on her knees and folding her hands in front of her face. I could see in the way the sides of her eyes pinched upward that her smile had widened. A bead of cold sweat ran down my neck.

"What, then, do you think is the appropriate number of lashes for stealing food from a sibling? It's such a petty crime that the amount might not be very high, but I'd like to hear your thoughts first before making my own assertions. How many lashes do you think would be appropriate? Hmm, Araragi-senpai? Araragi Koyomi-senpai?"

I could not hide from Ougi. She knew of the malicious intent with which I stared at the Mister Donut take-out box in the fridge. I had every intention of gorging myself with its contents, regardless of my relinquishing them to Karen and Tsukihi earlier that day. Even with full knowledge of what that act would result in, and the guilt I would feel upon doing so, I would have still done it anyway. Ougi knew all this.

So I simply prayed she would understand.

"That's an interesting question, Ougi." I stepped to the side and gestured at the fridge. "Would you like a donut while I ponder it?"

Ougi chuckled in that ominous way she always chuckled. "How foolish of you, Araragi-senpai. You would offer me donuts we both know aren't yours to offer?"

I felt another bead of sweat drop from my head. I remained silent and still as I continued to gesture at the take-out box.

"Hmm. Perhaps I am foolish too." She jumped off the kitchen counter and took the box out of the fridge. "Come, Araragi-senpai. I require your opinion on something. Let us partake in these stolen goods while we talk."

My prayers, it seemed, were answered. I quietly followed her to my room.

Unfortunately, the only table in my room is the study desk in the corner. I do not have a separate table that would allow me to entertain guests with tea and snacks. While reeling from this realization, Ougi and I stood awkwardly in the middle of my room, the box of donuts on the floor between us.

Ougi turned to look at me and it was clear from the deadness of her eyes that she had realized the same thing I did and was displeased by it. I could tell because not only was it a different kind of deadness in her eyes from the usual, but it perfectly matched the deadness I felt in my own expression. Truly, it was like looking at my reflection in the mirror. My gender-bent, differently clothed, legally distinct reflection.

Well, there was nothing we could do about it. With a sigh, we sat down on the floor and began eating.

"Ougi," I say between bites. "Before we begin, can you clarify something for me?"

"Certainly, Araragi-senpai."

"How were you able to enter my house?"

"You gave me a spare key."

Naturally, my immediate reaction was to believe her. It was only my experience of being friends with her for so long that stopped me from simply taking her at her word.

"Can you show me that spare key?"

Ougi tilted her head innocently. "I cannot."

"Then how did you enter? And why in the middle of the night?"

"Araragi-senpai, make no mistake: you should know exactly how I was able to enter. You did, in a sense, give me a spare key. Think about it."

I chewed thoughtfully as her words caused memories to instantly flash before my eyes—memories of the spare key I keep hidden underneath one of the planters outside the front door. I left it there on the off chance that I ended up locked out of my house after sneaking out at night. I've never had to use it before so it slipped my mind until now. As I swallowed, I unfortunately had to conclude that Ougi was right.

"Very well, I accept that answer for my first question." I picked up another donut and brandished it at her. "What about my second one?"

"Ah, that question would actually be answered by what I wanted to talk to you about. If I may, Araragi-senpai?"

It seemed a logical enough reason. "You have the floor, Ougi."

To that, Ougi carefully folded back her sleeve and removed her glove, gently tugging at the fingers before pulling it off entirely. With her now-ungloved hand, she selected a donut and lifted it to her face. She seemed to savor its smell of chocolate and almonds.

"Let me begin by presenting a bit of trivia. It is said that the smell of cyanide is similar to the smell of almonds. Not the sweet kind, typically found in pastries and sold in supermarkets, but specifically bitter almonds. With such a specific source of comparison, one would think the belief has merit. However, if you were to look deeper into it, you would find many disagreements and inconsistencies. Such would not be an issue if it was easy to personally verify the information, but very few people have ever made the effort to actually smell any almonds, let alone bitter ones. Even fewer people have smelled cyanide and lived to tell of it. Why, then, do people still peddle the idea of cyanide smelling like almonds?"

I looked down at my second donut, which also happened to have almonds. "I don't know," I answered.

Ougi tilted her head. "Surely you have at least one hypothesis."

I frowned before shrugging. "Maybe they just find it interesting, I guess?"

The smug smile Ougi showed me made it clear how pleased that answer made her.

"I happen to agree entirely, Araragi-senpai. I posit that the cognitive dissonance one feels when drawing a connection between cyanide and almonds makes the idea more appealing somehow. And because of that appeal, people choose to believe something they cannot verify and may not align with reality. Do you not find that odd, Araragi-senpai?"

I thought back to my previous spring break—to my very first conversation with Hanekawa about vampires. A domino had been tipped that night, which began a cascading effect through the rest of my life; one supernatural event after another. All because I couldn't completely disregard the rumors about a vampire, even though I didn't fully believe they existed at the time.

"I don't think it's that odd," I tell her. "It seems like a reasonable enough desire: wanting the truth to be interesting."

"Reasonable, you say? Hmm."

There was a pause after my response. During that time, Ougi took a small bite of her donut, chewing slowly. I sensed that she wasn't done yet so I waited patiently, continuing to eat my own donut.

After we both finished eating our respective confectioneries, Ougi sighed. "While I'd love to further debate this topic with you, I feel like doing so will make me lose track of my goal. I must refrain."

Once again, I blinked. Was debate in itself not the point? I was under the impression that this tangent about cyanide was specifically to provoke thoughts and spark an exchange of arguments, similar to how our other conversations have gone in the past. I quickly mentioned that to her.

"Oh, Araragi-senpai. In any other case, that would be true. But in this case, it is merely a prelude to what I'm about to say next:

"Earlier this week, during lunch, I attempted to have a similar conversation about this topic with Kanbaru-senpai. Unfortunately, after a few minutes of her engaging with it, I realized that she wasn't enjoying the conversation—nor was I, to be honest. When lunch ended, she apologized to me and excused herself from my table."

I blinked a third time. The sheer folly of broaching such topics with Kanbaru Suruga of all people truly baffled me.

"Ougi, given that you have my memories, surely you knew what kind of conversations Kanbaru would have enjoyed more."

"Yes, I was aware of that."

"Then why did you talk to her about such a topic in the first place?"

Again, instead of voicing an answer, Ougi picked up a donut and nibbled at it. A stalling tactic, perhaps to organize her thoughts? I, too, continued eating as I awaited her response. Only after I finished my third donut, and Ougi was halfway through her second, did she speak.

"Normally, my conversations with other people are in service of a larger goal. As such, I tailor the way I speak to people in a way that best suits that goal. Absent such a goal, I find myself speaking to our mutual acquaintances in the same way I speak to you."

In other words, she acts overly-familiar, extremely blunt, and attempts to debate them on various philosophical topics. I was starting to see why neither she nor Kanbaru enjoyed their talk. I'm probably one of the few people willing to engage Ougi for extended periods of time—and even then, sometimes it's only because she's my inner darkness.

"Couldn't you speak to them the way I speak to them? I'm sure you'd be capable of that."

"I considered that, but eventually concluded that it isn't worth the trouble."

"Why?"

"It would just lead to a different issue. For example, when I first opened communications with Kanbaru-senpai, it was as a darling and docile kouhai with the intent to get her to introduce me to you. Despite everything that's happened since our first meeting, her perception of me is still colored by that first impression. As such, whenever she speaks to me, she is more polite and upstanding than when she speaks to you. This means your memories, specifically your knowledge about how to navigate conversations with Kanbaru-senpai, is effectively useless to me."

That was true enough. The way Kanbaru and I talk to each other is crass and personal in a way that I'm not sure Ougi would be able to replicate—or would even want to replicate.

But realizing that made me wonder something…

"If that's the case, what are you coming to me for? You already know what I know and how I think. I'm not sure why you'd need my input."

"Ah, you seem to have misunderstood me again, Araragi-senpai. How foolish of you."

I suppress my urge to interrupt with a retort.

"Even considering the knowledge we share," Ougi continued, "you still have experience in something that I don't yet fully understand. Do you know what that is?"

"I've apparently misunderstood you, so probably not."

Ougi raised her half-eaten donut, hiding half of her face and half of her smile. "Being a whole person in and of myself."

I found myself staring at her unable to reply.

"I desire the ability to navigate my life as an independent actor—to be able to speak as myself, without relying on knowledge and processes that aren't truly mine. I do not know how to achieve this so I request some advice, Araragi-senpai."

My silence continued as her words sunk in. During that time, Ougi returned to her donut with a chuckle.

Technically speaking, Ougi has always been her own person, even from the moment she formed from my then-broken shadow. And yet, she was also correct that she was not a whole person—not back then. Not when her only goal in life was to bring order to someone else's. She was, in so many ways, still my inner darkness—a darkness that followed me for all of my life.

But having gone past that now, what else was there? Plenty of things, obviously, but what would be specifically hers? Who would Ougi Oshino become once she stepped outside of my shadow?

And was I really the right person to guide her to her answer?

I swallowed a shaky breath to steel myself.

"Ougi, you still haven't answered my second question from earlier. Tell me plainly now."

"Have I not? I suppose I haven't. My mistake." Ougi quickly finished off her donut and licked her fingers clean with a bored expression. "I came to you so late at night because now is the time I feel the most restless about it. Also, now happened to be convenient because you were available."

A wry smile tugged at my lips at how simple and easy that answer was. It didn't need any of the pomp and circumstance preceding it. Yet, the fact that we still went through the motions of that familiar song and dance was comforting to me.

"And the reason you came specifically to me and not anyone else?"

Ougi rose to her knees and leaned forward, cupping my face in her hands. I looked up and she once again smiled. It felt different this time. Still as sharp and knowing as her smiles always were, but somehow less malicious. I sensed no intent to unsettle me, nor any desire to sway my thoughts. Her expression merely was.

"Because you're the only person who could even remotely understand. Because you're the only person who'd help me without any strings attached." Her expression twitched ever-so slightly, into something I'd almost call genuine. "Because you're the only person I trust."

I closed my eyes and absorbed those words, feeling them crawl over my skin like skittering goosebumps. There was still hesitation in my bones despite everything she said. My existence was the cause for her own existence. She now wished to live one unique from mine, yet came to me for advice. It just felt wrong to me.

But it also felt wrong to deny her aid.

With a deep sigh, I removed her hands from my face and sat her back down. I looked her in the eyes. "Ougi, I'm capable of many things, but I'm not sure helping you become more like yourself is one of them."

Ougi's smile became a smirk, tinged with a guilt that I've only ever seen when looking in the mirror. "But you'll try," she said sadly.

I smiled back with a nervous chuckle.

I didn't deny her.

…

If you look at yourself in the mirror and your reflection suddenly asks for advice, what do you do? What advice do you give them? How would you decide what's best for someone who both is and isn't you? How do you overcome that disconnect?

I attempted to do so with Ougi that night. I don't want to go into detail about what I told her, but know that I didn't succeed. Or at least I don't think I did.

The only thing I'm sure I accomplished that night was come to the realization that my shadow was untethered. That my reflection would soon no longer reflect me. That whatever strange connection I shared with Ougi was—and had always been—transient and fleeting.

It hurt to think about.

And it hurt even more to ask:

What is the lesson of this story? What is the meaning of it all? What should be my take-away from all that transpired?

I don't know the answer. And likely, I won't know for a long time.

But what I do know is the punchline:

Shinobu discreetly reached out of my shadow and snatched up the rest of the donuts while Ougi and I were talking.

…

This was actually a plot bunny that's been dancing around in my head for the better part of five years—one of many that I've never really felt strongly enough about to actually sit down and write. After that blast of inspiration and spending a couple hours bouncing ideas off other writers, I dusted off what would eventually become this story and spent roughly two weeks chipping away at it.

Now, if you feel like this story is incomplete, then I won't argue against it. The original idea for this fic was to write the equivalent to a bakemonogatari arc about Ougi experimenting with her own identity. I might still do that story in the future, but I decided not to do so for this story since it'd require me to write several thousand more words. I'm not quite sure I understand these characters well enough for something quite that long.

As things stand, I feel like the struggle Araragi goes through in this story is impactful enough to warrant it being told. That said, I acknowledge that it's propped up more by the information given by canon about Araragi's past struggles with self-actualization than my own efforts. I just hope I leveraged what we know from canon enough to make people feel something.

Anyway, thank you for reading. Comments and reviews are appreciated. If I ever write another story for this fandom, I'll see you then!