Durarara!! - Volume 3 - Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Is There a Problem?

Apartment building, near Kawagoe Highway, Ikebukuro

It had been one very tumultuous day since Shingen Kishitani came to stay in Shinra’s apartment.

There was no chance to speak with him on the previous night, as Shingen had immediately collapsed onto the sofa and began snoring tremendously.

When Shinra came back from the convenience store, he found Celty silently absorbed in her online chat and his father sprawled out on the sofa, gas mask still in place.

He sighed in a rare indication of lament at the bizarre, otherworldly sight.

When his exceedingly self-absorbed father finally woke twenty hours later, he nimbly zipped into the bathroom with an agility that showed no sign of headache after oversleeping for so long. One hour after that…

“Ahh, I feel much better after that shower. Gotta love new apartment buildings. The water temperature adjustments are very smooth and pleasant,” Shingen mumbled to himself as he emerged from the bathroom, white gas mask still in place.

He took a look around the apartment, then finally noticed the figures of Celty and Shinra at the dining table, wirelessly playing handheld games.

“By the way, thanks for coming to pick me up yesterday, Celty. Just put the cost for ferrying me on Shinra’s tab over there. Hmm? Oh, Shinra, you’re here. Hi. Also, I’m here.”

Shingen was wearing his white coat over his underwear like a bathrobe. Celty flopped over the table, unable to even summon the energy to poke fun at his outfit. Shinra took his father to task in her place.

“I see you haven’t changed a bit, Dad. If you want to feel fully refreshed, you should probably take the mask off.”

“Isn’t it normal to make sure that nothing filthy enters the body? This is the Tokyo Desert, an accumulation of malice like a sandstorm. A gritty mass of teeming humanity. Get it, because sand is grit—”

“If you have to explain the wordplay, it’s not a very good joke.”

“Plus, I don’t think complaining about sand is very smart, Dad. Desert sands that get carried elsewhere can actually bring nutrients to the soil.”

Shingen shook his head, unperturbed by Celty and Shinra’s cold responses. “You don’t understand… The world is full of unclean ruffians of the sort we saw yesterday. Didn’t they just say there was an armed robbery recently? Assuming all people are like them, this lowers the risk of them being able to identify my face. Long live the gas mask! I figured you would appreciate my consideration in painting the mask white so that you could identify me at a distance.”

“Who else even wears a gas mask? Does this look like a chemical weapons war zone to you? In fact…isn’t it because of that stupid outfit that you got singled out for harassment?”

“You may be right… But who were they, anyway? They wore yellow bandannas… Mimics of some American street gangs, perhaps?” Shingen muttered, rubbing his side as he recalled the boys who had harassed him the previous night.

Shinra sipped his coffee and answered, “Oh, the Yellow Scarves? They started up just around the time you left for the United States. They don’t mess around with thieving or stickups or anything like that, though. They got into a tussle with another team a while back and supposedly settled down, but it seems they’re on the rise again, for some reason or another.”

“I see. Well, it’s normal for gangs in America to kill one another over territory squabbles. In that sense, at least Japan is peaceful—not that it changes the fact that I was mercilessly and unfairly attacked. Let them squabble with another gang, and the twain can fall to ruin and melt into the sewers together!” Shingen ranted grandiosely.

“That’s absolutely insane,” Celty typed in disgust—then fell into a gloomy mood when she remembered what had come up in chat yesterday.

The Yellow Scarves and Dollars were already in a hostile mood, and this had most certainly turned the Yellow Scarves into an enemy. The problem was that this incident had nothing to do with either the Dollars or the slasher. They were the ones who had cast the first stone, so they couldn’t make such a big deal about the affair, Celty thought. But the anxiety was still there.

As one of the few people who knew the identity of the slasher, Celty felt she had some responsibility to mediate and clear up the misunderstanding—but it was difficult to turn that thought into action, knowing Anri’s state of mind. On top of that, it was a story that beggared belief, so even if she was able to get through to them, it wasn’t likely to satisfy the Yellow Scarves and Dollars entirely.

Both the Dollars and the slasher were important to her. She wanted to do something to help, but if anyone was going to shoulder the most pain, it would end up being the Yellow Scarves, to whom she had no connection, and such a self-serving outcome would only leave her with a bad aftertaste. She had no good ideas.

As she sat there, idly tapping the table with her fingers, Shingen asked curiously, “Ah, Celty. You seem to be irritated about something. Empty stomach? That’s no good. A courier needs to be broad and welcoming in spirit at all times. I noticed you furiously smacking away at that cheap PDA yesterday… Trouble with the pocketbook?”

Celty considered what sort of withering retort he deserved, but fortunately, a narrow-eyed Shinra spoke for her.

“If that’s your conclusion, maybe you should pay up what you owe her for the trip.”

“I told you, that goes on your tab…”

“Whatever Celty makes goes right into our family fund. It’s like you’re spending with one hand to pay the other. Just ante up.”

“Hmm. In that case, I’ll have to wriggle out of it like usual.”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth than a blade tangled around Shingen’s neck. It took less than a second for the wave of black particles extending from Celty’s hand to reach him. The pointed shadow was stopped less than an inch from piercing his carotid artery, freezing him entirely. As he waited, she typed into her PDA and showed him the message.

“Oh? Wriggle out of what?”

“…I see your skill has grown since I saw you before. You can do this with your shadow now? This was all just a test, you see. I’m afraid you’ve fallen just short of a passing grade, but if you release me this instant, I might see fit to bump your score to— Ow-ow-ow-ow, you’re stabbing me, you’re stabbing me! The tip of your shadow is stabbing me, Celty! Curses! How dare you destroy my skin membrane, you creature of unidentified matter! Oh, I’d study you so hard if you weren’t outside my field of experti— Ow, ow, ow-ow-ow-ow!”

Shingen’s expression was hidden behind the mask, but his desperation was clear from the way his limbs flopped around, trying to pry the shadow away from his neck. Once he realized that this would get him nowhere, he abandoned all pride and begged his son for help.

“Shinra, your flesh and blood is in mortal peril. You see, I am testing you and thus acting out my own so-called peril…but if I might be perfectly honest, I am in all actuality truly in danger! Gosh, I don’t know how to say this… You’re my son. You understand, don’t you?”

“Of course I get it,” Shinra said flatly. He strode over to Shingen, then pulled the wallet out of his helpless father’s coat and tossed it to Celty.

“Wha—!” Shingen yelped, stunned. Celty pulled a pair of ten thousand–yen bills out and chucked the wallet back at Shingen. The shadowy restraints vanished, the black thorns dispersing cleanly into the apartment air.

“Thanks for your business.”

“…Ripped off to the tune of twenty thousand yen, how about that? And on top of that, I finally see my son’s true nature. Well, you’re not getting any inheritance.”

“I don’t want any, and if I don’t mind saying so myself, this seems to be a quite fitting action for your own son to commit, don’t you think?” Shinra quipped.

His father grumbled through the gas mask. “Rrrgh… Taken to the cleaners by a monster…”

“If Celty took me to the cleaners and stole my soul, I’d be a happy man,” Shinra retorted.

Celty sat back down shyly and unpaused the video game. But Shingen interrupted by sidling closer to her and noting, “Nicely done, Celty. I can’t believe how thoroughly you’ve tamed my son.”

“It’s kind of gross to talk about ‘taming’ your own son like he’s a dog.”

“Oops! And you’re positively brimming with morals and all that. It seems that you’ve lost your fangs and settled into Japanese customs. But I believe that, if you’re going to display proper respect, you ought to start by respecting the father of your landlord,” Shingen blathered on.

“It’s not an issue of morals,” Celty typed irritatedly. “I’m saying you shouldn’t look down on Shinra.”

“Oh?” Shingen exclaimed as he read both the message on the PDA and the body language she exhibited. “Why, Celty, are you saying…you’ve fallen in love with my Shinra? I knew that my son was odd, what with his unhealthy fetish for you. Does that mean the feeling is mutual?”

Celty held back on typing further for the moment, unsure of how to respond to that extremely personal question. After a long silence, she looked at Shinra’s face and typed two simple words.

“That’s right.”

The man’s son reacted immediately. “Celty! I can’t believe you’re being so open and honest about our relationship! I’m so, so, so, so, so, so happy! A one-sided pining as lonely as the abalone in the cove has developed into a loving bond, rock hard and unshakable, worthy of being shouted from the rooftops to the ears of unconcerned strangers! I am leaping with exultation at your admission, my dear!”

“Huh? Strangers? But I’m your father…”

Shinra stood up and squirmed with joy, ignoring the grumbling from the gas mask. Celty felt rising embarrassment at her partner’s emotional display and extended a blanket of shadow that forced Shinra down into his seat.

“Whaa—?! I think you’re beautiful even when you’re using your shadow more nimbly than your own limbs, Celty.”

“Just shut up. Don’t shout that embarrassing nonsense at the top of your lungs! Also, that simile you used earlier was terrible and made no sense.”

“Why, that just shows you the confusion that ensued at my utter joy to learn of the trueness of your love! And amidst that chaos and confusion, the only certain thing is my devotion to…mrrgh…mrff!”

He squirmed as she covered his mouth to stop him from talking. Meanwhile, Shingen sat at the table and imperiously inserted himself into the conversation.

“Hmm… Just a moment. Do you really think I’ll allow this kind of relationship?”

“Excuse me?”

“I hate to bring this up, but in human society, you are an unwanted guest—a monster, if you will. Are you aware of that?” he asked, his voice dripping with irony.

Celty did not hesitate in responding, “Of course.”

Shingen’s eyes went wide behind the gas mask at the forthright confidence of her answer.

“Of…of course?”

“Why? Is there a problem?”

“Well…damn. My plan to take the advantage by bringing up your antisociality has failed. I suppose I only have myself to blame after turning my son into an unlicensed doctor.”

“I don’t want to hear a single word from you about antisociality,” she shot back.

Shingen’s gas mask turned away from Celty in a huff. He tried a different vector of attack. “Er, okay, well… Is that any way to speak to your lover’s father? What happened to respect for your elders?”

“I have been alive for at least a century. And that’s only what I remember.”

She still had memory that suggested she had been living for much, much longer than that, but since losing her head, she could only clearly remember the last 120 years. Then again, it was possible that even if she recovered her head, those older memories would remain hazy.

“Grrmm… Very well, I accept your relationship. And in return, you may now refer to me as ‘Father.’ At all times. Knowing your difficulties with your memory, allow me to repeat myself: You will now call me Father.”

“Silence,” she retorted briefly, then gave Shingen a fresh glare. Of course, without any eyeballs to indicate such, Shingen might not even realize she was glaring at him.

Now that I think about it, he might have stolen my head himself. In which case, it would be his fault my memory is poor to begin with.

She just needed some kind of proof. Then she could put him through the wringer. Meanwhile, she decided that she ought to be calm in this situation.

“At any rate, Shinra is not a child.”

“That’s right, Dad. We’re serious about this. I’ve been reborn since Celty came here. I feel permeated with a deep feeling of contentment that never existed before,” argued Shinra, who had finally been freed from the shadow, but his father discarded his opinion.

“But you were just a boy when Celty got here.”

“Age means nothing to true love.”

“Good grief, she really has done a number on you,” Shingen sighed, exasperated at his son’s logic. He rearranged the fit of his gas mask and muttered, “Done a number, huh? Celty, tell me, are you aware of the fairy known as a leanan sídhe?”

“Of course. They’re fairies who travel in search of their destined lover. The man a leanan sídhe ends up with has a shorter life span but receives all kinds of special abilities in return.”

“Aha. Very good,” Shingen said approvingly.

Celty puffed out her chest with pride and boasted, “Heh, I always get one on my party in my favorite video game series.”

“Can’t you at least say it’s because they’re fellow fairies? Hell, those are even from Ireland, same as you,” Shinra prodded her, exasperated.

Celty swiveled her PDA screen to show him. “My home is Ikebukuro. After all…it’s where my family is.”

“Ohh! That’s the sweetest thing! They say there’s no cure for lovesickness, but your smile can fix all ailments! C’mon, let’s mate like fish—gwufg!”

Celty nailed Shinra’s rapidly approaching throat and gave Shingen’s previous question a more considerate answer. “Back on topic, I do remember meeting a few different fairies back there.”

She continued typing at the PDA in little bits and pieces, taking the time in between to peruse her uncertain past. “What about leanan sídhe?”

“Watching you just now, I had the feeling that perhaps you’re closer to a leanan sídhe than a dullahan.”

“You think I’m going to suck the life out of Shinra?” Celty made a gesture of affront.

Shingen shook his head. “No. As you said, a leanan sídhe is a fairy that travels in search of a man to love. If the man she sets her eye on resists, she becomes a slave who will do anything he says if it will make him love her, but once he accepts her love, it is like a bewitching curse that possesses him until his death.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“A leanan sídhe is invisible to anyone aside from the man of her affections,” Shingen stated flatly, but the eyes visible through the white lenses of the gas mask were sparkling with delight. “Legends say they are extraordinarily beautiful, but only their chosen man can see them. Their beauty is unknown to any but their lover.”

“What are you trying to say?”

“How can you be beautiful if you have no face? Yet my son claims that you are beautiful with all of his heart. You have some kind of beauty invisible to the rest of us that is only apparent to the man you love.”

It could have been taken as sarcasm, but Celty was not angry. She responded, “That’s hardly unique to the two of us. There was a boy who claimed to love only my head. Doesn’t this kind of thing happen all the time in normal human romance?”

“Yes, you’re exactly right. Which means the leanan sídhe is merely a symbol—a stand-in for a kind of love that is actually more common than we might think. That is why, when I see you, I think that rather than a death-dealing dullahan…you might be more suited to be that other type of fairy.”

“I see…,” Celty typed in understanding, then wondered, “then what about the part about stealing his life?”

Shingen’s response to her innocent question came as simply as if it were obvious common sense.

“Same thing. It’s a common phenomenon for human beings to drown in love so heavily that their lives become shorter. Finding love can lead to the blossoming of talent and the shortening of life. It’s two sides of the same coin.”

A moment of silence passed.

Shingen perhaps recognized that something had gone slightly sour in the conversation, so he quietly continued his point from earlier.

“If you follow the local legends, the interpretation of the leanan sídhe changes dramatically depending on who tells the story. Some tales say that she’s an elderly witch who knows nothing of love.”

“I see. You seem to know a lot about fairies.”

“I’ve researched a great many things. It’s only natural.”

“Actually…I do have a very vague memory of leanan sídhe.”

Both Shinra and Shingen turned their heads to her in curiosity. It was quite rare for Celty to speak about her past.

“Ooh? It’s very rare of you to tell a story from before you came to Japan.”

“I guess. I have clear memories of night visions and pixies, things of that nature…but I’ve hardly ever felt the presence of fairies in this country—so the memories are very old.”

Celty’s helmet tilted level, as though she were staring far over the horizon.

“I feel like the leanan sídhe I met were indeed fairly old women. Though I also remember one younger. But there’s nothing more I can do about it until my memory returns entirely. At this point, my memories of Ikebukuro far outweigh those of Ireland. All those old memories do is fade away into nothing.”

Shinra’s hand softly folded over Celty’s, which sat lonely on her knee.

“It’s all right… You can replace the memories you lost with all kinds of new ones from now on. Whether you’re a dullahan or a leanan sídhe or a banshee, I would be honored to have you suck out my life force.”

“Shinra.”

“Let’s start the memories by having a wedding. First step is taking your measurements for your dress, so remove those pesky shadow clothes and—bwaa-bwee-hee-hee-hee!”

“Buzz off!”

She pinched Shinra’s cheek hard, but Celty was not truly angry about it. Shinra always made a big show about coming right for her, but she knew that he would not try anything by force and that he wasn’t simply consumed with lust for her.

This was just Shinra’s way of showing his love for her, she knew.

But I really ought to tell him off, anyway.

“Ow, ow, ow! You’re gonna pull my cheek off, Celty. What are you going to do, rip it open and then fix it shut with cheek piercings?” Shinra jabbered, still having fun despite his pain.

His father observed with annoyed resignation. “As they say, water only follows the shape of its vessel… Well, I feel like the reason Shinra turned into such a freak is because he was molded by the shape of your shadow. Actually, now that I think back on it, he was always a freaky kid. Used to laugh with excitement when he dissected anything.”

“Obviously he got that from you!” Celty protested angrily.

Shingen wagged a finger and clicked his tongue at her. “I told you, you are to call me Father. How long ago did I just say that? You really don’t pay attention to the details, Celty—never have. In fact, that’s why you’ve never even suspected that I stole your hea……… Aaaaaa! Crap!” he shrieked, realizing his mistake. But it was too late.

Celty had just been wishing for more evidence of this crime just minutes earlier, but the anticlimactic admission was so sudden that she didn’t even realize what she’d heard at first. But as the meaning of the words sank into her consciousness, her fingers trembled on the PDA keys.

“Y-youuuuuuu! What did you just say?!”

The twitch in her finger must have caused the u key to be pressed down too long.

Shingen’s expression was hidden by the gas mask, but he followed up his mistake with further insult. “Oh, dear. I seem to have admitted a deep, dark secret out loud… But I’m fine! Celty’s so harebrained, she won’t even notice!”

“ ”

The shadows surrounding Celty’s body flickered and danced with rage. She couldn’t even type. The revelation had been so unexpected and abrupt that her anger was not translating into action the way it normally would.

The man in white leaned in to the turn. He bellowed, “Harebrained Celty! Haaarebraaained Ceeeelty!”

“Shut up! Don’t repeat yourself!” she typed smoothly this time, the explosion of anger focusing the precision of her fingers. Meanwhile, she swung at him with her non-PDA hand, but it only hit empty air.

“Bwa-ha! As if I can’t read a harebrained attack ahead of time,” Shingen crowed, evading Celty’s enraged punch—but not Shinra’s extended foot, flipping him in a half circle to sprawl onto the floor.

“Gak!”

“Dad…I don’t care if you’re my father. I won’t stand for anyone insulting Celty.”

“No, Shinra, wait. Didn’t you know that harebrained is really more of a form of endearment than an insul— Ghuff!”

All the air went out of Shingen’s lungs as Celty stepped down hard on his back. He wasn’t in a position to see her PDA, so she didn’t bother to type anything more. All he needed to pick up was the pure anger emanating from the sole of her foot. It crept up his back closer and closer to his head, the rage taking on a note of murder as it went.

Shingen realized the danger he was in at last and pleaded, “All right! All right, Celty, stop! Let me ex— Let me explain! Not my neck! If you put all of your weight on the nape of my neck, you really will shatter my vertebrae! Stop! Stop! I mean…stop, please!”

A few minutes later, Shingen was delivering a grandiose speech to the other two, his latest wave of heavy sweat having completely ruined his recent shower.

“At this point, there’s no use hiding it… Yes, it’s true that the one who stole your head, handed it over to a pharmaceutical company, pretended not to know about it, and made you live in this apartment with Shinra…was me!!”

“How contrite of you.”

At great effort, Shinra had managed to calm Celty down, but the flames of rage within her still licked and flickered at Shingen’s apparent insistence that he bore no sin in the matter.

Although she had essentially decided that she didn’t care about the location of her head anymore, she still couldn’t forgive him for putting her through all of that. Why had he even stolen it in the first place? If there was someone else behind all of this, she wanted to barge into their turf and give them a piece of her mind for an entire day.

Shingen seemed to sense her rage. He said softly, “Very well… I shall tell you why it was necessary to steal your head from you.” He spun around on his heel and strode off for the front door. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”

Celty and Shinra turned face and helmet to each other. Shingen was already slipping his shoes on at the entranceway. They followed after him, watching as he opened the door and headed into the hallway.

Slam!

The front door of the apartment shut abruptly, followed by racing footsteps.

—?!

For an instant, Celty was stunned into inaction by the enormous slam of the door.

Huh? Hmm? What does this mean?

It only resulted in the loss of a few seconds, but that proved to be an irrecoverable delay.

“What? Did Dad just run away?!” Shinra wondered. Understanding came instantly to Celty. She raced to the entrance, forming her own shoes out of shadow and kicking the door open.

All she saw was the plain hallway of the apartment building. On the other side of the hallway was the light of the opposing apartment. She looked left and right and spotted the indicator of the elevator right next to Shinra’s apartment descending toward the ground floor.

That perverted freak. He’s not getting away from me!

Celty eyed the staircase at the far end of the hallway and took off running.

Her running speed was no different from that of a regular human being…

But the way that the shadows writhed and spun around her made her look like a terrifying Grim Reaper.

“…Is she gone?” came a voice, muffled by a gas mask, from behind Shinra’s back as he watched Celty disappear around the corner of the stairs.

“Whoa!!”

Shinra jumped at the sudden voice and spun around to see Shingen’s head poking out of the shadows behind an open door.

“Dad… You made it look like you were running away, and then you hid?”

“Pretty much. I nearly ran into the open door first,” Shingen said proudly, glancing in the direction that Celty had run while rearranging the fit of his gas mask. “But my plan to just hit the elevator button and hide worked out. I won through sheer luck—the elevator just happened to be stopped on this floor.”

“I can’t believe this,” Shinra muttered in exasperation.

Shingen brushed dust off of his white lab coat. “Hmm. As long as I keep the front of the coat buttoned, I suppose no one will notice I’m just wearing long underwear underneath… Anyway, I’m going to slip away quietly for now. I’ll leave my luggage with you and come back to get it when Celty’s not around.”

“…I’m surprised you think I’m going to let you do any of that.”

“You don’t want her to become a murderer, do you?”

“Celty’s not that short-tempered.”

Shinra’s father grinned beneath his gas mask and stealthily strode out into the hallway. “Ah yes. I have a feeling that a guest will be coming for me, so when they arrive, give them my phone number and tell them I’ll be in hiding for a while. So long.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than Shingen started heading toward the emergency staircase on the opposite end of the hallway from the regular stairs.

“Um, what kind of guest, Dad?”

“You’ll find out.”

Shinra sighed as his father proceeded down the hall without turning back.

Ultimately, he did not stop the man.

Shinra sensed a change in the sound around him and peered over the railing outside.

It had just begun to rain. The low buzz of the rainfall smothered the night city.

Damn…where did he go?

The elevator had already arrived on the ground floor by the time Celty got there. She determined that he couldn’t have gone far and ran around to scan the area—but she found no trace of Shingen.

If I let him escape from under my nose, he’ll flee the country in no time. I have to track him down and put him through what happened in that horror manga I read last night!

She was about to leap onto her motorcycle and race off in a rage when the cell phone in the pocket of her shadow-leather jacket beeped the text message tone at her.

The sound brought Celty back to her rational senses. She checked the phone quickly, in case the message was from Shinra—and when she saw it, she took off running at once for the parking garage and her trusty Coiste Bodhar.

There was no city noise around the apartment building anymore, just the quiet carpet of rainfall.