Higurashi has quickly become one of my favourite fictional stories. I think there’s a certain kind of story which I latch onto most. My terms for describing it are pretty non-specific and I’m unsure how much you could really credibly link them, but they all share something in my mind. They’re stories where you get the feeling that the author wrote them as a necessity, rather than a want. It’s as if they were afraid they could never write a story again, and so they pack in everything they want to do — all the tones they want to try out, all the love they have for their fictional characters, all their beliefs about the world, etc. They’re often intensely ambitious, messy, super over the top in their emotions and completely openhearted. They’re often on the verge of falling apart entirely, but they’re rescued by the pure passion you feel the writer must have had. To get a stronger idea of what I mean a few of the stories I’d place in this group are Revolutionary Girl Utena, Undertale, Adventure Time, The Leftovers, 17776, etc. I’ve latched onto Ryukishi07’s work so much this year because this is the exact kind of story he writes. I was initially unsure about Higurashi because of its length and its edgy reputation (maintained by the anime adaptation) but I found one of the most emotionally fulfilling stories I’ve read in a long time. There’s no doubt Higurashi is really flawed but if you can open your heart to it and become emotionally attached to its characters you’ll be rewarded. Its length is intimidating but it’s worth considering that each chapter is relatively standalone. It’s never actually been released as a single visual novel, so it might be better to consider it as more like a book series than one long novel. Of course, the individual chapters all coalesce into a complete story, but I would argue that the first few chapters of Higurashi all tell relatively satisfying stories on their own. I initially planned only to read the first chapter for a friends’ game club, so I’d recommend committing to at least reading Chapter 1 and deciding if you want to continue from there.
Keeping with this view of Higurashi as a book series rather than one long novel, I’ve written this review as a collection of mini-reviews for each arc. In terms of spoilers, each review will spoil the individual arc but not any of the future ones. To keep this article from being overlong I’m going to write a separate one for the answer arcs — any observations on these chapters that would spoil the answer arcs will be contained in the future article.
Chapter 1: Onikakushi
In a medium known for slow starts, Higurashi’s is one of the most infamous. Onikakushi has 12 chapters, and the mystery only gets going about halfway through Chapter 6. The prior chapters are devoted to slice of life hijinks which took me about 3 hours to get through (and would probably take longer for a slower reader). The extended slice of life opening is very contentious. By anyone’s standards it’s a long time for a story to “get going”, but if you’re expecting lots of murder based on the promotional material or the faster-paced 2006 anime it might become tedious. I don’t blame readers who get annoyed by this opening, but I think many might have the wrong mindset for it. If we view the slice of life scenes as a facade then they’re obviously gratiutous. I think this is the expectation many have for Higurashi — that the slice of life scenes only exist to be subverted. It’s become a pretty common gimmick in anime, especially ones labelled with the term “deconstruction”. But if Higurashi were aiming for a facade, why would it open by telling us where things are going? I think whether or not you enjoy the slow start, it’s worth engaging with it as a deliberate choice. What I noticed pretty quickly is that this isn’t written by someone who thinks of this as an easy way to build up a sense of normality that can be quickly subverted. There’s clearly a sense of admiration for the slice of life genre, and this is the main reason why it is longer than it “needs” to be. My personal defense for this opening is that it has a sense of sincerity to its character interactions and goofy humour that makes it a lot more enjoyable than a facade ever could be. The indulgence in the scenes of these friends just hanging out and playing games builds a sense of genuine comfort and routine. Ryukishi encourages an active engagement in these scenes — the feeling is as if you’re being welcomed into this friend group as Keiichi is. I think the best way to read Onikakushi and subsequent Higurashi chapters is to try and approach the slice of life sections on their own terms, rather than just waiting on the main plot to start. Having finished the entire series, I’d also argue that the slice of life sections are much more important than they initially appear. While there is some narrative foreshadowing, I’m mainly suggesting this from a thematic and dramatic perspective.
The second half of Onikakushi is where the series kicks off the psychological horror that it’s known for. In continued defense of Higurashi’s slice of life I find that the psychological horror plotting is pretty standard, and that it’s the horror’s synthesis with the opening section that makes it special. Onikakushi is one of those “is the main character under threat or are they just crazy?” storylines. The best of these will make either outcome equally horrifying, and this is what Onikakushi excels at. Ryukishi is excellent at tragedy, and it’s the slow destruction of the comfort and routine experienced in the first half that makes this chapter genuinely upsetting to read. The scene where Rena suddenly confronts Keiichi captures this fear I have of my friends suddenly turning on me. It also goes the other way — I’m afraid of no longer being able to trust my friends for whatever reason. The two key scenes for me are when Rena repeatedly says “I’m sorry” outside of Keiichi’s house and when Keiichi directly confronts Mion. In these scenes we’re painfully reminded of the bonds being broken here. Are Rena and Mion using their bond with Keiichi to emotionally manipulate him, or is Keiichi destroying these bonds out of his own paranoia? The personal investment in the characters and their friendship makes these questions a lot more painful to ask than they would otherwise. While the chapter is filled with really tense moments, I find it more depressing than it is scary. The chapter makes it really apparent that the synthesis of slice of life and horror is tragedy.
Chapter 2: Watanagashi
The final hours of Watanagashi are my favourite part of the question arcs. Keiichi’s character in this episode is like a foil to himself in Onikakushi. In that chapter he is consistently paranoid and mistrusting of his friends, while Watanagashi shows a Keiichi who is intensely trusting and loving. Throughout the chapter he prioritizes the other over the self, experiencing intense guilt over what is essentially a silly action. It’s easy to look at Keiichi’s decisions in this chapter and make fun of his stupidity as many have, but I think this is missing the climax’s point. Keiichi’s decisions are questionable when looked at with reason, but Keiichi is operating on the principle of faith. One of the themes in Higurashi is applying this religious faith in the secular worlds of love and friendship, and from my memory this finale is the first time where it becomes especially evident. Keiichi’s journey with Mion into the basement of the Sonozaki house is a leap of faith, and Keiichi maintains this faith even when he is confronted with what appears to be pure evil. Even when he is told that he is being deceived he continues to have faith in his friend, outright denying the murderer in front of him as Mion. The whole climax is basically Keiichi being tested to maintain his love. Higurashi creates a really interesting mix of childish innocence and total bleakness. They’re often viewed as separate, but the series’ best moments are when these two modes synthesise into one.
While the climax is the standout, the rest of the chapter is also great. I don’t think it’s quite as gripping as Onikakushi’s second half is, which comes down to Keiichi having a much-needed ally in Rena this time around. That doesn’t mean it’s worse though — this chapter is where I really began to love Rena as a character. Here she continues to get more complex than her cutesy “hauuuu!” persona without ever betraying Keiichi like in Onikakushi. She’s also really fun in the detective mode, especially when she basically pulls a Columbo bit on Mion near the end. One thing I love about Higurashi’s time loop setup is how we learn more about the characters in their different variations, and how these variations suggest that the characters’ actions are driven by circumstance rather than anything innate to them. The paranoid Keiichi of Onikakushi and the trusting Keiichi of Watanagashi are not two different people, despite the apparent contradiction. For a first time reader I think the most key thing to pay attention to is the differences in characterisation between chapters. I think the most important thing to ask is what circumstances could resolve these contradictions.
Chapter 3: Tatarigoroshi
Tatarigoroshi is the bleakest Higurashi chapter and its most effective tragedy. It’s driven by intense anger at institutional failures and the resulting inability to solve problems that nobody should have to take care of on their own. It’s driven by the fear that there is nothing you can do to resolve someone’s suffering. The argument between Keiichi, Mion and Rena in the classroom is surely one of Higurashi’s most painful scenes because it shows the breakdown of friendship in terms that are all too real. This scene is especially awful because none of the characters are outright wrong. Mion and Rena are right to argue that this isn’t a burden that should be placed on the responsibility of some teenagers, but Keiichi is also right to resist the idea that the only option is to wait and hope things should get better. The characters hurt each other, not over murderous plots or potential demonic possessions, but because they are in a situation that none of them can emotionally handle. Satoko’s characterisation is excellently written as well — while this is a story written from an outsider’s perspective of abuse, it’s one where the victim is written with an extensive amount of interiority, helped by her being a character who we already know. Ryukishi writes in a difficult zone where Satoko is an ‘imperfect’ victim who makes major mistakes without falling into the trap of victim blaming — instead he shows that victims’ relationship to their abusers is motivated by a lot of complex psychological factors which cannot be quickly resolved. Once again he allows you to understand why characters make the decisions they do, even if they’re the ‘wrong’ ones.
The most interesting characterisation in the chapter is of Keiichi, who becomes a more interesting protagonist with each arc. We have another synthesis of the loving Keiichi with the paranoid, murderous Keiichi. I think this episode is one of the most interesting to look at how love in Higurashi is portrayed. Keiichi’s tragedy in this episode is that he is driven by love for Satoko but he fails to actually understand her. Part of his motive for murdering Teppei is that he believes things can immediately go back to the way they were. This is a case where his innocence fails him — he has very little idea about the reality of trauma and PTSD and how Satoko is not going to instantly revert back to how she was before Teppei returned. Again, this is another case in Higurashi of the ‘wrong’ thoughts and decisions being understandable ones in the context of Keiichi being a dumb kid. He is generally very misguided and never really takes into account what Satoko is actually feeling. So when I say Keiichi fails to empathise with the other characters in this episode it’s not about him being malicious or without love, but more that he is limited by his own point of view. I think the turmoil of experiencing love without a true understanding of the other is one of the strongest themes across Ryukishi’s entire work (particularly Umineko) and this chapter is where it’s most apparent in Higurashi.
One of my favourite parts of the chapter is the murder scene, and I want to take note of how this part in particular is given a strong advantage by being in a visual novel. It’s undeniable that Ryukishi stretches things out — the average scenes in Higurashi and Umineko tend to be at least 10 minutes long and often even longer (especially depending on your reading speed). Bad news when you’re reading an Angel Mort scene or when the narration repeats things that have already been explained, but some of the best scenes in his work benefit from the stretching of time. The murder scene is perhaps the one that benefits most from this. Its effectiveness is lost in the anime and manga adaptations where the scene goes by pretty quickly. Not much actually happens in the scene, and these adaptations convey all the essential information, but the more important thing is how slow and stretched out the murder is — the feeling that you’re actually in there with Keiichi. The extended process of waiting out for Teppei, actually committing the murder and trying desperately to bury the body is all written with painful detail, and the scene’s length feels as if it corresponds to how long this process actually takes. The scene after with Keiichi encountering Takano is even better, and probably my pick for the single most tense scene in Higurashi. It nails the feeling of accidentally stumbling on something you really shouldn’t have, and its circumstances being seemingly disconnected from the rest of the chapter make it feel even more unsettling.
The rest of the chapter is more divisive and for fair reason. Tatarigoroshi starts off as the most grounded and least mystery-driven chapter, then it suddenly pivots into being the most bizarre and unexplainable one. I think it works because it maintains the emotional core of the chapter, which is the feeling of absolute helplessness. Here, it seems as if the world itself has completely turned on Keiichi, denying him any agency or for his previous actions to genuinely stick. This section in particular makes me excited for Ryukishi’s work on Silent Hill, as I think this sense of one’s internal fears being externalised through an intensely hostile environment is absolutely nailed here. I enjoyed theorising for this chapter the most because it’s the one with the most room for supernatural explanations. The first two chapters have the issue that the supernatural explanations make everything too clear for it to be an actual mystery, so the question of whether things are supernatural or real is an unbalanced one. There are a few elements of the chapter that I don’t like as much are the introduction of Irie, who has the unfortunate case of being a character who COULD have been great if Ryukishi didn’t feel the need to bring in his perverted comedy. Unfortunately nearly every chapter of Higurashi has at least one scene which is actually painful to get through. The other part I’m not too keen on is the Great Hinamizawa Disaster, which is another swerve that suffers a bit from its lack of connection to the chapter’s thematic core. The finale is undeniably exciting and has a lot of “what the fuck is happening NOW?” value but this chapter would have ended on a much more poignant note if it finished with Satoko running away from Keiichi on the bridge. I don’t mind some contrivances but Keiichi’s survival is also a bit much even by the series’ standards. I will note that there is a reason why this event has to happen in this chapter, so I understand its presence in the context of the story as a whole. I still take issue with the event in general, but that’s to be elaborated upon later.
Chapter 4: Himatsubushi
Himatsubushi suffers a little from basically being a side-story, but this chapter is still one of the more interesting ones in terms of Higurashi’s politics. The dam protest can be mistaken as something that adds to Hinamizawa’s darkness and closed-off mentality, but as the series goes on it becomes clear that Ryukishi takes this backstory a lot more seriously than that. One of his strengths as a writer is that he always puts thought into writing about sensitive topics, unlike some of his contemporaries who use them as easy shock value. In this chapter, it becomes clear that the dam protests and the militant tactics used in them were ultimately a necessity. One of the best scenes in the chapter is Akasaka being asked by Rika about what he thinks they should do if the protests are morally wrong. His struggle to respond is pretty revealing. While he’s not the most interesting character, the chapter develops a good conflict of him having to confront his own morality. One thing I like about Higurashi’s portrayal of police is that even when cop characters are likeable as individuals they still maintain their role in a corrupt system. It’s not an especially new insight but I like how much the story questions his role. Since there’s no moment where he actually needs to get his hands dirty the conflict doesn’t resolve in the most interesting way, which is part of the limitations of this being a prequel side-story.
The real highlight of the chapter is Rika, particularly the haunting scene where she predicts the future up to her own death. While this chapter doesn’t reach the emotional highs of the previous three, this might be the most compelling scene of the question arcs in terms of mystery and atmosphere. The difference in Rika’s characterisation compared to the other three question arcs’ use of their focus characters is that we remain somewhat distanced from Rika — she’s made more complex, but there are far more questions than answers about her character, making her somewhat inexplicable. You also get a lot of great material in the TIPS, to the point that the TIPS might be superior to the main chapter. I really love the exploration of Rika’s mother as someone who is not directly abusive (from my memory anyway) but who clearly holds her daughter in contempt. Rika’s ominous monologues are another excellent layer of mystery to her character. Overall the chapter is the least impactful of the question arcs and it being written as a short addition while Ryukishi was struggling with Meakashi does show, but these qualities make it a worthwhile addition to the series.
