Durarara!! - Volume 4 - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Wakahime Club “The Hottest Spring in the World! The Erotic Terminal of High School Girls, Ikebukuro!”

“A dripping blackboard eraser! The after-school extracurricular activities never stop when the town becomes your campus! Tokyo’s dangerous horizon wafting with the scent of shining roses, Ikebukuro…

A proud eagle wanders the heights, seeking to slake her ashen lust—the high school girl!

Among these girls who caress the borderline between passion and destruction, our special reporter witnessed a rare sight: the ‘yamanba’ crone fairy!”

Thus read the shameless front cover of Wakahime (Young Princess) Club, an adult magazine. It was meant to focus on a certain subset of youth culture and package it for consumption to an older audience, but this particular publication, owing to its very peculiar angle and marketing, was well known for trailblazing its own very niche direction.

On the cover were two women in school sailor uniforms, clearly well over twenty years old, posed in a provocative manner, with a number of holy Buddhist seals placed on their legs below their skirts.

On the center foldout, the seals came into play once again, covering the most sensitive feminine area in a photo that was as erotic as it was confusing.

It was difficult enough to look at a pornographic magazine in front of others—particularly in a classroom when there were girls around—but the obviously slanted aesthetic of this one made it especially awkward.

But in a first-year classroom at Raira Academy, one person read this magazine right out in the open.

“Oooh. Ahhh. Ohhh. That’s hot. Very nice. Wish I had this body, ya know?”

This figure, leaning back in her chair and smirking to herself, was clad in a black-based school uniform that did not belong to Raira Academy. She wore glasses and had a simple smile without a hint of cosmetics covering it. In short, she looked just like a bookworm who should be hiding in a corner of the library, poring over the literary greats like Natsume Soseki or Osamu Dazai.

“Oh man, that’s good stuff. How do you get boobs this big? Milk? Is it milk? What if you just pour the milk right on the boobs and then rub it into the skin? Will that help? What do you think?” she asked the boy sitting next to her with a dazzling smile.

The boy being questioned turned red with a look that said, Why are you asking me? and flopped down onto his desk, glancing at her.

While they both had glasses, this girl was the polar opposite of Anri Sonohara otherwise. While Anri had a calm, shadowy maturity to her, this girl had eyes that flashed with mischief behind the lenses and the natural brightness of personality to match it.

And this girl was the one gleefully flipping through the porno mag.

She had a long black skirt and thick glasses, a combination that screamed “honor student.” Not the type of girl you would expect to read something like that.

But she continued rifling through the centerfold pictures with an innocent smile on her face, dropping unwanted comments to the boys on either side of her desk.

The boys didn’t know what to do. They were utterly at the mercy of a girl they’d only met half an hour earlier.

Raira Academy, first day of school

Raira Academy was a coed private high school in southern Ikebukuro.

It had a different name just a few years earlier, but it earned its current name when it merged with another local high school.

The campus grounds were not that large, but the school maximized the use of what space it had, so it didn’t feel cramped. It was also close to Ikebukuro Station, which made it an attractive school to people from the suburbs of Tokyo who wanted to commute from home. The average test score and difficulty of getting in were on a slow rise, and its past rumors of being quite a slum before the merger were now a distant memory.

There was a nice view of the surrounding terrain from the higher-altitude campus, but the looming sixty-floor building just ahead did not brook any feeling of superiority. On the other side of the school was Zoshigaya Cemetery, which gave it a slightly lonely atmosphere for being in the middle of a metropolitan city.

Of course, when the students were there, that lonely feeling was nowhere to be seen, crowded out by the oasis of youth at the heart of the capital.

After the school opening ceremonies were finished, each classroom got down to the business of student introductions.

But among them were a few notable outliers.

First, every class had to have its clown—someone who looked for laughs in the hope of livening up the room or sometimes fell on their face and just made things awkward. Some of them were so dense that they couldn’t even realize their jokes weren’t landing.

While some stood out intentionally in their search for stardom, others couldn’t help but stick out by virtue of their size or looks. Others flubbed their own names when doing introductions, which quickly slapped them with the “ditzy” tag.

The Ritual of the First Impression presented a largely insurmountable wall to others, to varied emotional reactions.

Given the nature of the academy, it was rare for people to wind up being classmates with kids they’d been with since middle school or even earlier. Excluding classmates from Raira Academy Middle School or the other junior highs in the immediate area, you were lucky if you had one or two old friends in your class.

So the mask of the first impression was surprisingly heavy in regard to its effect on one’s personal relationships for the next year (or three). People are more than their appearances suggest, as the saying goes, but that quote held no water if there wasn’t someone around capable of seeing that inner personality, and there was no guarantee that such understanding confidants would be among one’s classmates.

The first impression would lead to the creation of social groups and exert a powerful influence over lunch cliques, classwork teams, and other gatherings.

It all came down to whether you could blend into the class or not. That was the ritual being held when a student made his or her introduction to the rest of the class: the first test of the school year.

And whether they realized this importance or not, there were two students who clearly did not pick up on the signals.

One was the bespectacled girl in Class 1-B.

“I’m Mairu Orihara! Orihara is spelled with the characters for fold and field, while Mairu means ‘dance’ and ‘flow.’ Nice to meet you! My favorite books are the encyclopedia, manga, and porn mags!”

Her introduction itself was brief and ordinary enough that most of her classmates took the final bit as a forced joke. But her black uniform stood out quite a bit among the green-based Raira uniforms.

What she said next, however, completely changed the feeling in the room.

“I go for both teams when it comes to love and lust! But the spot in my bed for men is already spoken for, so don’t even try! I can go out with as many girls as I want, however, so keep that in mind when you propose a relationship!”

The other student was a girl in Class 1-C who also stood out quite a bit.

“Kururi…Orihara.”

Despite it being the first day of school, she was wearing gym clothes, which immediately made her stick out like a sore thumb. Raira allowed its students to wear their own clothes even at official ceremonies, but most kids chose to play it safe and wear the official uniform or jacket.

Yet this girl wanted to wear gym clothes.

As she started to sit back down, the teacher asked, “Is there anything else you wish to say about yourself?”

“No, there isn’t…,” she said in a tiny voice, then sluggishly sat down.

The thin fabric of her shirt accentuated the size of her breasts, which, combined with her taut limbs, attracted the gaze of all the male students.

But given that her personality was already questionable based on her choice of outfits to the ceremony, none of the boys opted to stare for too long, lest they attract the disgust of the other girls in the class.

She had a healthy, vibrant outfit and figure. But her expression and manner were gloomy and sickly.

After telling the class nothing but her name, the girl quietly sat down in her seat and resumed staring at her desk.

A boy sitting to one side of her—Aoba Kuronuma—glanced at the girl in the strange outfit and idly thought, She seems gloomy. But what’s with the gym clothes?

That was the extent of his curiosity, however. He looked around and noticed other boys sending curious glances at the girl and looks of disgust from the girls in the class.

Well, as long as she doesn’t get picked on.

But that would ultimately be her problem, not his. Attention turned to the next student’s introduction—not just from Aoba, but from most of the class.

There was just one student adrift from the crowd, that was all. Eventually, the remaining classmates turned their attention to the continuing introductions, and that was all they thought of it.

Given that they were in separate classes, the rest of the school didn’t realize that the two odd girls who appeared in Class B and Class C, if you ignored their glasses, hairstyle, and bust size, had essentially the same face and build.

There was also the matter of the last name Orihara.

The teachers who had been around since before the name change to Raira experienced an instinctual danger signal when they saw that name.

“Well…just because he was their brother doesn’t mean they’re just like him. It wouldn’t be right to discriminate against them because of that,” a veteran art teacher said, sipping tea in the faculty room. “But…compared to when Izaya and Shizuo were here, it’s so much more peaceful now.”

The elderly teacher grinned wryly, thinking back on the problem child of the past wistfully.

“We don’t have barrels of gasoline rolling down the third-floor hallway anymore, for one thing.”

At that moment, apartment building, Shinjuku

“Now that I think about it,” Namie said with a softer than usual expression, but without stopping her work, “today is the entrance ceremony and start of school for Raira Academy.”

She sounded oddly happy about it. Izaya did not look up from organizing his e-mail, however. “That’s right. But why would you bring that up out of the blue?”

“Seiji’s starting his second year of high school… I wish I could have rushed to the ceremony to celebrate with him…”

“The first day of school? He’s in his second year, so parents and guardians have nothing to do with it.”

“Well, I want to see it,” Namie answered without hesitation. Izaya shook his head in disbelief. Namie normally played the role of the coolheaded beauty, but when it came to her younger brother, Seiji Yagiri, she proudly exhibited a level and depth of love that was abnormal.

It wasn’t the platonic love of a family, but the physical, lusty love between a man and woman. But her brother reciprocated none of that; in fact, he seemed to find her obnoxious. Yet even those cold glances were lovable to Namie.

A look of bliss stole over her suddenly pink cheeks as she imagined her brother growing up, and she continued her work in a better mood than before.

Izaya glanced at his assistant, sighed, and muttered, “Raira Academy… That place has totally changed since they merged and got a new name.”

“Oh, you went there?”

“I graduated about six or seven years ago. Back then, it was just Raijin High School.”

For an instant, Izaya smiled with wistful longing—and the expression turned to a cruel, hateful smirk just as quickly.

“But…it was all horrible there, including the fact that it’s where I met Shizu.”

“You really do hate him, don’t you?” Namie replied, then had an idea. “If you graduated high school six or seven years ago… Didn’t you say that you’re twenty-one right now?”

“I’ve been telling people I’m twenty-one for several years. Do you really think I’d just give out personal information like that?”

She ignored him, exasperated, then abruptly stopped and turned to look at him. “Does that mean you do trust me a bit?”

“I wouldn’t call it trust. It’s more like giving out just a little bit of information to keep a subordinate from leading a mutiny.”

“You ought to die,” she spat, returning to her work. “By the way, your sisters are starting school there today, too,” she shot back.

“…I’m surprised you know that.” Izaya’s face went just a bit hard.

“I can do a bit of research on the king I serve, too.”

“…Fine. It’s the same thing I do to you.”

He didn’t like the turnabout, a fact he made clear with a pained grimace. Eventually, he gave up on his work and leaned back in the chair to mutter, “I don’t know how to handle those two.”

“Oh? To think that you would have trouble handling anyone other than Shizuo Heiwajima.”

“Don’t tease me. I’m only human, you know? I’m not perfect,” Izaya said, sighing heavily. He began to explain some of his background to her. “My sisters…who are named Kururi and Mairu, by the way… Well, my parents are normal. Except for their naming choices. But I was raised in normal circumstances—and turned out like this.”

“So you’re aware that you’re a freak.”

He ignored Namie’s barb and folded his hands, entwining his fingers. “I turned out weird, despite my normal upbringing. But them, on the other hand—I feel like they turned out weird because of my influence. I won’t deny that I feel a bit of responsibility for that.”

“What do you mean by weird?”

What are those girls like, if this freak thinks they’re weird? Namie wondered, stopping her work for a minute to pour some tea from the teapot in the kitchen. She stood there, ready to hear more, which prompted a tired look from Izaya.

“What they’re trying to be is…human.”

“…Huh?”

“They want to represent the human being in a microcosm. The Japanese human being, specifically.”

“I don’t understand what you mean,” she said cautiously. Izaya’s grimace was barely visible.

“It’s a very difficult task they’ve set. Basically, they think that as twins, they make up one person.”

“…I see. It often feels like twins add up to a single life-form when taken together, from our perspective. But…I suppose other twins would find that idea quite offensive.”

“Normally, perhaps. But as I said, my sisters are not normal.”

Izaya closed the laptop and steadily got to his feet. He flicked the window blinds open and narrowed his eyes at the light that filtered through.

“You know how video games have character parameters? Stats, and so on. They say that you’re good at magic but terrible at fighting or a good brawler but a total nimrod. When you make up a party in an RPG, you have to balance that party out, so that each person makes up for the others’ shortcomings.”

“That’s not so different from reality. The very first step to rational optimization is ensuring each person has the right role.”

“If only it were an issue of rationality.” Izaya leaned over and put his hands on the table, envisioning his sisters. “Anyway, they’re trying to create this RPG party themselves. As if one were the fighter and the other were the magician.”

“…I don’t understand what you mean.”

“It’s simple. They decided to intentionally fashion different personalities for themselves. They actively turned themselves into identical twins with totally different personas! And they assume that by acting together, this makes them better… They’re under the illusion that they can do anything that way.”

He grinned as though seeing something funny, but there was no humor in his eyes. “When they were in elementary school, they chose their looks and personality at random. With no regard to logicality! That’s why Kururi, the elder of the two, plays the silent, gloomy type, despite her gym clothes outfit. And Mairu the younger is a bright and talkative character, yet she looks like a bookworm.”

“But…that makes no sense. Why would you separate your looks and personalities?” Namie wondered, stunned.

Izaya nodded. “Exactly. It makes no sense. But to them, having your appearance and personality match doesn’t make sense to begin with. In the end, they’re still combining themselves into one person. They think that as long as all the parts are present, there’s no problem. They’re just special enough that they can pull it off. I mean, talk about a bad case of eighth-grader syndrome.”

“What’s eighth-grader syndrome?”

“Just do a search on it. I mean, they could have it worse—they could claim that they can use psychic powers or they were warriors of light in a past life—but at any rate, they find a way to stand out, no matter the group.”

“I see. And given your desire to be the hidden puppet master, you’d prefer to be far away from them,” Namie calmly surmised.

He looked away, surprised at being pinned so accurately. “Anyway, it makes you embarrassed just to listen to them talk. I’m sure you’ll understand if you ever meet them… It’s really painful. And that’s coming from me, so you know it’s true.”

“If you already understand that you belong within the realm of painfully embarrassing people, I’d hope you would act on that information.”

“I’d prefer not to get that lecture from a woman who did plastic surgery on an unwilling girl for the sake of her own brother,” Izaya shot back.

Her lips bared in a tiny smile. “I have absolutely no intention of coming clean to Seiji.”

“…”

“Didn’t you know that love doesn’t need an accelerator or a brake? Just caring about the other person puts you right at their side,” she answered—though it wasn’t an answer at all—her cheeks glowing a rosy red. Namie looked like the very picture of a slightly older maiden in love.

If only it wasn’t with her own little brother, Izaya thought, leaning back into his chair.

Namie turned to him, her expression proper again, and asked, “Will they be all right? Kids who stick out like these guys are likely to be bullied, don’t you think? And the bullies these days are quite nasty.”

The words themselves were full of sympathy and care for Izaya’s relatives, but her voice was completely devoid of emotion. She clearly did not actually care.

Izaya, meanwhile, only seemed half-interested for his part. He conjectured, “I suppose. I hope there’s no bullying…but I very much doubt that.”

The information broker sighed…then grinned.

“The poor things.”

Three days later, noon, Raira Academy

Why does bullying happen?

Aoba Kuronuma pondered the issue from his seat in the back of the classroom. It was said that the reason bullying happened lay as much in the bullied as the bully, but in reality, that didn’t really matter, did it?

The pressures of society, the influence of video games, too much manga, bad parents, bad schools, bad Internet.

None of this mattered, thought Aoba.

There were probably an infinite number of reasons, and removing every last one of them still wouldn’t stop a bully from doing what he did. It all happened because they were making themselves feel better.

The people who couldn’t help themselves from feeling better were the ones who went on to engage in bullying. It was a bit of a forced conclusion, but despite knowing how simplified it was, Aoba decided to follow that line of thinking.

I don’t try to hide it. It feels good to bully those weaker than me. The only question is whether I can resist that pleasure or not.

It was like fighting a country with nothing but foot soldiers and bombarding them with missiles from a safe distance. All the idealistic speeches in the world couldn’t change the fact that it felt good to be safe and know that you were superior to the other person.

And those who watch without stopping it are feeling both the fear of retribution and the relief that they weren’t the ones singled out.

That’s right. Just being in a place of safety is a kind of pleasure. Sure, there are probably total saints out there who don’t feel any pleasure from that and just want to help others. Given how many people are on the planet, it would be weird if there weren’t.

But…I don’t think there are any in this class.

And so, just before the last homeroom session of the day started at the very end of school, Aoba glanced over at Kururi Orihara’s desk, which sat adjacent to his.

A number of pieces of graffiti had been left on it in permanent marker.

Wow, only three days into the school year?

However, the content of the messages was not quite like the normal methods of bullying.

“Sister of the slut”

“Take responsibility!”

“Abandonment of guardian duty!”

“Prostitute sisters”

“Leave the ranks of the living!”

The messages were surprisingly verbose, with some choice vocabulary words. For her part, Kururi just stared down at the desk. The crime had happened during the twenty minutes that she was away at the library.

Kururi might stick out like a sore thumb with her gym clothes and gloomy personality—but almost none of the insults directly referenced her.

Why would so many of the messages be directed not at her, but her sister, Mairu Orihara?

The reason why happened earlier that morning.

“Good morning!”

On the third day of school, Mairu Orihara walked into class to find that her desk was covered in graffiti saying things like “slut” and “one thousand yen for a ride” and “will put out for cash.”

She paused, grunted, and looked around the classroom with a smile frozen on her face.

Every single person in the classroom had his or her back to her, pretending not to be aware of the state of her desk. They were acting as if they didn’t see her at all.

It was a classic bullying tactic.

But she just continued to calmly watch the rest of the class…until she settled on one member of the girls’ group near the window at the front of the class. One of the girls had glanced at her sidelong and then snorted and whispered something to the others.

Instantly, Mairu’s mouth bent into a grin. But not the smile of gentle pleasure—it was the sharp and nasty leer of a con man with a fresh sucker in his sights on the otherwise attractive girl’s face.

She leaped.

It all lasted only a second.

Something on the floor exploded. But that was only in the minds of the students; there was no explosion, only the sound of Mairu slamming her foot against the floor as she leaped.

In the minds of those bullying—or avoiding becoming involved in it by ignoring the whole affair—Mairu Orihara was supposed to be invisible and utterly absent from the room. It took all of 0.05 seconds for that illusion to be shattered.

By the time everyone swung around to see the source of the sound, Mairu was off the floor and in the air at the back of the room. She landed on a desk behind her with one foot, using it as a launching pad to propel herself on top of the locker against the back wall. She grabbed a case lying on top of the locker as she twisted her body into a rotation.

Without stopping at any point, she flowed, leaping off the top of the locker, over the heads of her shocked classmates, onto a desktop, and then a few more as she crossed the room without touching the ground.

She had shot with all the force of a cannon.

And now she leaped especially far off the last desk—into the group of girls sitting at the front of the class.

Three days earlier, noon, apartment building, Shinjuku

“I suppose. I hope there’s no bullying…but I very much doubt that,” the information agent sighed…then grinned. “The poor things.”

“That’s not something to laugh about. They’re your family, aren’t they?” Namie said, her eyebrows tense with disgust, but Izaya only shook his head.

“Ohh no, no, no. Not that,” he chuckled, then corrected, “The ones I feel sorry for aren’t Kururi and Mairu…it’s the kids trying to bully them.”

“Huh?”

“What did I tell you? My sisters are weird because of my influence.”

“For example…do you think the people who tried to bully me got away scot-free?”

Back to the morning of the third day of school.

The classroom was frozen.

Every person present stood in place, eyes trembling, unable to process what they’d just seen.

“Ha-ha-ha! Gotcha!”

Mairu’s innocent cry echoed off the walls, the voice of a child playing tag.

But her actions were actually the polar opposite of innocent.

The case she’d grabbed off the top of the locker was stuffed to the lid with pushpins.

Mairu cleverly popped it open one-handed, swinging it high overhead.

Everything she’d done to that point was quite simple.

She leaped into the midst of the girls who laughed at her, tackled the nearest one with a lariat, and plunged the flat of her hand into the girl’s mouth when she started to scream in shock.

That was all.

Each and every one of those actions was as crisp as a series of slow-motion photographs to her classmates.

Mairu’s pretty face went red, and she cackled excitedly as she rode the bucking girl like a horse. It might have been an erotic pose if not for the hand in the girl’s mouth and the case of pushpins held in the other hand.

Mairu put on the exact same smile she wore during her introduction on the first day of school, her eyes glittering behind her glasses.

“I’ll give you three seconds! Who did it? Point them out,” she said, bringing the case of pushpins closer to her victim’s open mouth.

“Nnnng! Nnah! Mmaaaeegh!”

The girl struggled mightily, realizing what would happen to her, but Mairu pinned her down with a knee on either shoulder, preventing her from moving on her own.

The girls in the group around them were blank with uncomprehending disbelief. They writhed uncomfortably, but otherwise did nothing.

“Three…”

The stunning precision of the assault completely robbed the wits and agency of the girl who had been the perpetrator of the bullying and was now the victim of this violence.

“Two…”

She didn’t have the time to think about what would happen to her if she sold out the one who came up with the idea. Then again, if she had the time to calmly weigh the two choices of punishment later or the present threat of pushpins poured down her throat, she might have chosen the same thing anyway.

“One…”

The case of pins tilted slightly, causing them to slide and shuffle just a bit.

That sound was what did it.

The girl pointed out the tallest of her companions, who had just been gleefully discussing the result of their desk defacement moments ago.

“Zer… Ooh, close one! Thanks.”

Mairu pulled her other hand out of the girl’s mouth and deftly snatched the few pins that fell out before they landed. She stood up with a brilliant smile, then turned to the classmate that the nearly unconscious and terrified girl had pointed out.

The ringleader was already attempting to flee the scene when Mairu saw her.

“Oh no, you don’t! You’re not getting away!”

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Mairu was hurling the few pushpins that had fallen into her hand with a motion like a pitching machine at a batting cage.

Tak-tak echoed a rhythmic sound throughout the room.

Several pins were stuck into the door that the tall girl was reaching for in her escape attempt. This in itself wasn’t that abnormal; a pin could stick into the wall like a dart if it was thrown right.

But the act of hurling pushpins itself was abnormal, especially at a person. But Mairu Orihara broke that taboo without a second thought, tossing them right at the hand of the ringleader bully.

When she realized this, the girl stopped still for a moment out of sheer terror. She was on her heels. Every action was merely a reaction.

The ringleader had leaped into action first but was now thrust into reaction. She didn’t have time to think about her next move or even act on instinct. The very target of her bullying grabbed her shoulder from behind.

“Let’s go have a chat in the bathroom! Guess what! Listen! Guess what! You know what? I don’t even know your name, but now I want to be really, really good friends with you! Ha-ha-ha!”

And with a playful smile on her attractive features, Mairu Orihara dragged the unidentified girl down the hallway by her chin.

She stopped for just an instant to tell the boy who sat next to her, “Sorry about this! I’ll treat you to lunch later if you clean off my desk!”

The boy flinched in surprise, but not having any better idea of what to do, he went ahead and started to erase the permanent ink with his eraser.

None of the other students moved. The only sound in the class was the scraping of the eraser against the surface of the desk.

A boy who attended the same middle school as the Orihara twins arrived at school immediately afterward, and seeing the state of Mairu’s desk and the terrified students, he put the pieces together. He sighed and muttered, “Oh boy, you went and did it, didn’t you?”

The boy walked into the midst of the petrified students and explained, “She goes to some kind of weird martial arts gym, so I wouldn’t mess with her. The few guys who tried to gang up on her a while back got beaten half to death by the other gym people.”

Does this fighting style use pushpins as a weapon? everyone wanted to ask but decided that discretion was the better part of valor.

Fifteen minutes later, as homeroom was just about to start, Mairu returned to the class as though nothing had happened, straightening her clothes out. When she saw the poor male student who was still rubbing away at her desk, she bowed apologetically.

“Oh, sorry, sorry! It’s oil based, so it won’t come out easily, I bet. I’ll help!”

She pulled a piece of cloth out of the chest pocket of her black uniform and began to wipe with the boy.

“It won’t come out. And I suppose water won’t work on permanent ink… Would it be faster to shave it off with a plane?” she laughed.

If you only looked at her face, she was a pretty, tidy, nerdy-looking girl. But when the boy realized he was staring at her, he quickly looked down and subsequently noticed something odd.

The cloth she was using to wipe the desk was trailing what looked like a string. It seemed strange to him, but he went back to focusing on his own work rather than get distracted.

Which meant that he failed to realize that it was the bra of the female student who’d just been dragged to the bathroom.

In the end, the girl who was primarily responsible for scribbling on Mairu’s desk did not return to the classroom. She left school early without even retrieving her bag.

There was no way for anyone else to know what kind of “discussion” the two had in the bathroom—and no one was inclined to find out, either.

The students who had silently watched the defacement happen certainly weren’t going to stick their necks into even bigger trouble. That was the only reason they needed.

Time passed, and then it was homeroom before the end of school.

As a result of Mairu Orihara’s rampage in Class 1-B, the twisted network of female gossip set its sights instead on Kururi Orihara, her sister.

Aoba considered the desk graffiti in silence.

She had done nothing. Kururi became the target of harassment for no other reason than being Mairu’s sister. They didn’t hate Kururi, they just wanted revenge against Mairu.

Actually, I don’t really care, he thought, looking out of the window in boredom as time ticked down to the start of homeroom.

The teacher showed up and began to run through the standard procedures before the end of school. As Mr. Marumura looked dutifully over the entire class, he noticed the miserable state of Kururi’s desk and asked, “Orihara, what happened to your desk?”

“…”

“Just to be sure…you didn’t write this yourself, did you?”

He looked down and saw the content of the messages and grimaced as he waited for her answer.

“…No,” the girl in the gym clothes claimed in a quiet voice.

Marumura surveyed the classroom and asked, “Does anyone know who wrote this?”

I don’t care, Aoba thought, as he watched Kururi stare downward at the desk. He had nothing to do with this bullying. It represented neither benefit nor harm to him.

I really don’t care.

And because he truly didn’t care…

“Tsukiyama and a girl from another class did it,” Aoba said, simply answering the teacher’s question with the truth. Because he didn’t care. He had no opinion either way on the bullying. He just answered the question.

Meanwhile, the girl named Tsukiyama whom he accused looked shocked. No one had stopped her when they were doing the deed. So it never occurred to her that she might be betrayed in this way.

Of course, in reality, there was no cooperation in the deed from the start, so there was nothing to betray, but from her perspective, she had been stabbed in the back.

“Come to the faculty room after this, Tsukiyama. And bring your friend from the other class. Got that?” the teacher ordered sternly.

Tsukiyama ground her teeth and shot Aoba a look that said, You didn’t do anything earlier. You just watched! But as he didn’t care, this meant nothing to him.

The one thing that he did care about was that Kururi herself looked at him with some amount of surprise. He couldn’t deny his interest in that.

After school, school entrance

Several hours after that incident…

“After school tomorrow…I can’t wait.”

Once Aoba had finished observing the various school clubs, he got a message from Mikado agreeing to show him around Ikebukuro the following afternoon.

He was heading for the school entrance to leave for the day when a fierce voice called out, “Hey, you.”

Aoba turned back to see a group of girls. They were from his class, and standing at the center was Tsukiyama, the girl he’d sent to the faculty room earlier.

“What?” he asked.

Tsukiyama scowled. “You know what. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Are you going to ask me out? Is that what this is? Well, sorry. I don’t think I’m up to the task of going out with all of you at once,” he commented lightly, but the girls did not find that amusing.

“Huh? Are you an idiot or something? Try to take a damn hint. Who snitches to the teacher in that situation? You think you’re some kind of hotshot, playing the hero like that?”

“Actually, if I thought I was doing the right thing, I would have stopped you when you were doing it, right? Why would you ask me this?”

“Then why did you snitch on me?!”

“Well, you didn’t tell me not to. To be honest, if I had to judge you and Orihara on a scale—based only on your looks and actions, since that’s all I have to work with—I’d say it’s pretty much a law of nature that a girl who draws nasty messages on someone’s desk is less desirable than a mysterious, well-behaved girl with a big rack in tight gym clothes…”

“Fuck you, you little—”

Just as the girls began to close in on Aoba, Tsukiyama noticed something wrong.

Her body was sending abrupt danger signals, centering around her nostrils.

Something smelled charred.

“Huh…?”

A fire?

The girl looked around in a panic, searching for the source of the burning smell. It was Aoba who pinpointed the location of the smell first.

“Hey, is that…?”

“Huh? Aaagh!!”

Tsukiyama looked down to see that smoke was issuing from the bag slung over her shoulder. She screamed and threw it aside. Instantly, flames erupted from it, the smoke pouring from the burned hole in the fabric.

The smoke alarm set into the ceiling of the school’s front entrance went off, ringing all throughout the school.

After that, every student present, including Aoba, was summoned to the disciplinary room for individual questioning.

Aoba answered truthfully about everything he’d seen. Oddly enough, they asked to see the contents of his bag. Surprised that they would demand this, he asked what the cause of the fire was. The teacher wouldn’t tell him at first, then admitted the answer as long as he didn’t tell anyone else.

They didn’t know what caused the fire in Tsukiyama’s bag to start, but the investigation turned up several energy drink bottles that were actually full of paint thinner. And not only that, but the bags of the other girls present led to more bottles of thinner. They denied any knowledge of this, but they’d also just been disciplined for bullying.

“Huffing paint right on the first week of school… Then again, these are bullies we’re talking about. They were bothering you about what happened at homeroom, weren’t they?”

“Pretty much.”

“Well, they could be looking at a suspension…but there’s no telling how they might try to get back at you. If things are seeming dicey, come and tell me at once.”

After that, Aoba was unceremoniously released, and he headed for the school exit again—but there were two girls waiting at the front entrance this time, which still contained a bit of ash from the burned bag.

One was Kururi, carrying her bag and still in gym clothes, and the other was dressed almost the exact opposite—yet aside from the glasses, they had the exact same facial features.

“Heya. Hi! Or should it be ‘good evening’? And between you and me, I guess it’s ‘nice to meet you’! I’m Mairu Orihara! Kuru’s twin sister! It’s a pleasure!”

The other girl was as bright and chatty as her sister was silent and somber.

“Um, n-nice to meet you.”

They sure are odd twins, Aoba thought. Kururi, who was standing in Mairu’s shadow, mumbled toward the ground, “…Thank you”

“Huh? …Oh, for the thing at homeroom? You’re mistaken. I didn’t do it to earn your thanks, and I didn’t stop them from writing on your desk in the first place.”

“…I know.”

“Hweh?” he mumbled.

Mairu cackled and added, “You know that Kuru was secretly watching them do that from the hallway, right? And you know that the both of us were secretly watching the whole scene that happened here earlier?”

“What?!” Aoba stammered, shocked at this revelation. “But…wouldn’t that give you even less of a reason to thank me?”

“Kuru’s happy that you said you thought she was cuter than that Tsukiyama girl! You know how she’s more of the silent, thoughtful type, yet she wears those gym clothes all the time? Kinda weird, right? So she’s just happy that a boy actually said that about her!”

“…Be quiet,” Kururi commanded her little sister. She took a step closer to Aoba, still facing downward. She and the boy were about the same height.

She said, “…Your reward.”

And she looked up at last, leaned forward, and covered Aoba’s lips with her own.

 ?!

Not realizing at first what had just happened, Aoba’s mind was a total blank. He only watched as Kururi shuffled away, her face red.

But that wasn’t the end of his confusion. Mairu stepped forward to take the place of the retreating Kururi, and unlike her sister, she forcefully grabbed his body and yanked him toward her for a powerful kiss.

 ?! ?!?!?!

With Aoba’s childish looks, it could have easily been a role reversal of man and woman. His mind went from recovering its wits to losing them again. He stared at her in blank shock. Mairu pulled back and, without missing a beat, declared, “Yippee! I shared an indirect kiss with Kuru! Hee-hee-hee!”

She hopped away from Aoba and continued in the same tone of voice, “Sorry about that. It’s probably a big shock to receive that from a girl who isn’t your girlfriend. Then again, Kuru looks like the reserved type, but she’s actually a lot more assertive than I am!”

“…Not true.”

The younger of the twins ignored the elder and approached Aoba, giggling as she leaned in for a very long whisper.

“Oh, but even if you fall in love with Kuru, you can’t monopolize her! She belongs to me, too, you know! Also, I’ve decided that the only man for me is Yuuhei Hanejima! In fact, Kuru’s a big Yuuhei Hanejima fan, too, so you might not get anything more than that kiss from her! Ha-ha-ha!”

“But Yuuhei Hanejima is…a huge star.”

“Yeah, I know. Why do you mention it?”

“Never mind…um…huh? What am I supposed to do about this?”

Aoba was much too confused by the series of events for this to work as the dating sim development it could have been. Once he collected his breath and thoughts, he asked a question that had nothing to do with their kisses.

“Umm…oh, right. Did you put something in those girls’ bags? Tsukiyama and them, I mean. Like…stuff.”

It was a very direct and pointed question—which the girl who had kissed him on the third day they met, without any romantic connection, answered in a tiny voice.

“…That’s a secret.”

With a shy little smile at the end.

After the twins left, Aoba stayed there for a while, leaning against the shoe locker at the front entrance. Eventually, he remembered something and brought up a friend’s number on his phone.

“Yeah, hello? It’s me…”

“I feel like I just turned into the protagonist of a really bad porno.”

“Would you believe me if I said that I just got kissed out of the blue by a pair of twins?”

“Huh? Yeah, they’re cute. Kinda weird, but in terms of their facial features, they’re pretty cute.”

“Kill me? Why? No, I just figured that I would ask whether I should be happy or freaked out, from the perspective of a loser like you… Okay, sorry, that one’s my fault. Don’t scrape the phone speaker against the glass—aaaaagh! Stop it!”

That night, Ikebukuro

“I don’t see it, Kuru. I’m pretty sure that glider was going in this direction, though. Aww, geez. I just wanna see it, I wanna see it, I wanna!”

Mairu was shouting and carrying on, her kiss with an unfamiliar boy earlier in the afternoon completely forgotten. They were both in their own clothes now, but their fashion sense was odd nonetheless. Their affect was different from during the daytime.

“…”

Kururi, meanwhile, scanned the area in silence.

After going home from school, they leaped all over the live footage of the Black Rider and rushed out into the city to catch sight of it.

There was still heavy foot traffic in the shopping district, but as it was a normal weekday, once you got off the beaten path, it quickly turned quiet.

As they headed down one such lonely street, Mairu asked her older sister, “By the way, why are we coming this way? Shouldn’t we look on one of the bigger streets?”

Kururi ignored her and continued to look around, eventually settling on a car parked on the street. She began walking straight toward it.

“…This way.”

No sooner had she said it than Kururi crouched down and reached under the car.

“Whoa, what are you doing, Kuru? Did you find a ten-yen coin? Yippee! You can buy me one of those cheapo puffed corn snacks! I’ll take the mentaiko flavor, please!” Mairu teased, cackling. But her sister got back to her feet, holding what she’d found under the car.

“What’s that?” Mairu asked. Her sister didn’t ignore her this time.

“…I saw…the Black Rider…drop it…on TV.”

“Huh? No way, it dropped something? I didn’t notice!” Mairu exclaimed in surprise. She examined the object her sister found with great interest.

Then she said…

“What’s up with this envelope?”

It was a brown manila envelope with “Payment—Celty Sturluson” written on it in Japanese.

The envelope was surprisingly heavy and felt as though it contained a stack of paper. Kururi was already anticipating the answer before she opened it up.

As soon as she saw what was inside, her eyes went wide, and she glanced around.

“What’s up, Kuru?”

At the very instant that the younger sister got her own peek into the envelope, something writhed in the corners of their vision. They both spun around to see.

Ikebukuro at night. In the middle of an empty street.

A monster stood there, ready to silence the girls in the lonely midst of the city.

It was tall, with exceedingly pale skin. And it appeared to be wandering about aimlessly.

But its face was hideously twisted from the nose outward, with bright-red blood spilling from eyes, ears, nose, and mouth as it shuffled forward with zombielike steps.

“…What’s that?”

“Stay back, Kuru.”

Mairu determined that this represented a threat, and she stood in front of her sister, right in the path of the obviously dangerous figure.

And just when he was mere inches away from entering Mairu’s roundhouse kick range, the bloodied man fell over, muttering something.

“…? What’s up with him? Should we call an ambulance?” the girl wondered. Right then, the man’s head rose, and he spoke in halting, trembling Japanese.

“Hospital…not so…good… Miss…is there…gahfk!”

“…Yo-u okay?”

There was blood in the man’s cough. He slowly rolled to face upward again and just barely managed to mumble, “I’m sorry… It might not be possible…but before I die…I need to do one…thing…”

“What, what? This is really interesting. Can you tell me?”

“Are you aware…of any sushi shops…run by Russians…around here…?”

Ten minutes later, Sunshine, Sixtieth Floor Street, Ikebukuro

With a new briefcase purchased at the discount shop, Shizuo boldly strode through the night.

“What do you suppose that thief was all about, Tom?”

“Don’t ask me, man,” Shizuo’s boss answered lazily. He thought about the event earlier in the evening. “I guess we could check back there later. Don’t want to get in trouble if it turns out that white guy died.”

“You realize he was trying to starve us by stealing our stuff, right? He must have known there was the possibility of being killed.”

“Y’know, sometimes you can say the most aggressive things…,” Tom muttered, feeling a cold sweat run down his back. He determined that further comments might result in his own bodily harm, so he set about checking their next collection point with a sigh.

When he wasn’t pissed, Shizuo was a fairly quiet man. Right now he was somewhere in between. He probably wasn’t fully over the bizarre and uncalled-for attempted robbery (?) from before.

They decided they ought to grab a bite to eat before they headed to their next job and were looking for a suitable destination when they heard a pleased shout.

“Shii-zuu-oo!”

A girl leaped onto Shizuo’s back.

“…”

He reacted with something resembling a wry smile. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good.

Shizuo reached around his back and picked up the girl by the collar like a kitten.

“Oh no, no, no, it’ll stretch! You’re stretching my clothes, Shizuo!”

“Mairu…what the hell are you doing out here in the middle of the night?”

He dangled her out in front of him, confirming that it was indeed the little sister of the man he hated more than anyone else in the world.

“To see you, of course!”

“I know you’re only after Kasuka…”

“Yeah! But I love you, too, Shizuo. You’re so strong!”

“…Whatever. Even I don’t have access to Kasuka’s schedule anymore. He’s a big star now, I hear.” Shizuo grunted exasperatedly, lowering Mairu to the ground. He looked over and saw Kururi watching from a distance. The girl bowed shyly.

“…For a second, I was worried you were gonna snap there, man.” Tom grinned nervously, his face twitching slightly.

Shizuo scratched his head and said, “Well…I don’t usually snap on people who are at least honest and straightforward about it.”

What Shizuo Heiwajima hated was people who used logic to twist others around and stir up their emotions. First and foremost of this type was Izaya Orihara, and while his sisters were also insane, they were more honestly so, and therefore he didn’t get as angry with them.

Naturally, he didn’t put up with everything they did—but given their obvious admiration for him, Shizuo did not display any open antagonism toward them.

He did, however, show some irritation at the inevitable thought of their brother. “Listen, if your brother dies laughing as he gets shoved into a dump truck, I might just introduce you to my brother. In fact, I’m kinda frustrated today, so maybe I’ll blow off steam by beating Izaya to death.”

“If Iza will do the trick, then go right ahead!” Mairu suggested, selling her brother into certain death. Shizuo sighed again.

Nearby, Tom thought that it was quite rare for Shizuo to sigh like a normal person, but he chose to keep that observation to himself.

“Oh, right! I want to talk more with you, but there’s a specific reason I came over, Shizuo!”

“What?”

“Listen, listen. Iza took us to this sushi place run by Russians around here. Do you know where it is? We got lost looking for it…”

“Oh, Simon’s place? And don’t call him Iza. Call him Fleabrains from now on.”

It struck Shizuo as an odd request, but he gave them thorough directions to their destination (which was actually just a single corner away).

Meanwhile, Tom noticed the other, much shyer girl and thought, Shizuo and a withdrawn teenage girl… Can’t tell if they’re totally unsuited for each other or just the opposite. But when he saw the envelope in her hands, his eyes went wide.

Inside the opened envelope was a stack of Yukichi Fukuzawas—about a hundred of them. He looked around carefully, approached the girl, and whispered, “Hey, you shouldn’t be carrying those around in the envelope.”

“…!”

As she hastily closed the envelope, he handed her the paper bag that had contained the clock he just bought at the discount shop. “It’s better than nothing. And make sure you don’t drop it.”

“…Thank you”

“It’s fine. I was just looking for a place to throw the bag away.”

Finished with the directions, Mairu came back to grab Kururi’s hand and drag her away.

“Thank you, Shizuo!”

“…See you. Say hi…to Kasuka.”

Tom watched the two girls race off and sighed.

Still just in their first or second year at Raira…and they’ve made a huge stack of cash like that… How long did it take them to earn that, and what did they have to give up?

After a while, he turned to Shizuo and mumbled, “I know they say that kids these days are liberal when it comes to sex…but money can be a scary thing.”

“?”

“Then again…we collect debts for a hookup service, so I guess we’re not in any position to lecture…”

Tom nodded to himself, pitying the plight of the young women without realizing that he was completely wrong about it. Shizuo watched his boss, and after the meeting with Mairu, he thought about his younger brother.

Oh yeah. He said he was on location in Ikebukuro today.

We live in the same neighborhood. You’d think he could drop me a line once in a while.

Chat room

TarouTanaka: At any rate, tomorrow I’ll be around Ikebukuro, guiding and being guided.

TarouTanaka: I’m still a newcomer to this city, so it’s good to meet you.

Kuru: That is a coincidence. We, too, have plans to travel through Ikebukuro tomorrow. Perhaps we might even meet face-to-face and fist-to-fist.

Mai: We’re gonna punch ’em?

TarouTanaka: If we do, go easy on me, lol.

Kuru: Our trip out this evening was quite wonderful. Are you aware of the sushi place known as Russia Sushi? That is a most fascinating establishment.

Mai: Yummy.

TarouTanaka: Oh! I know it! Russia Sushi! That’s where Simon works!

Bacura: The employees are scary, though.

Kuru: Oh, what a detailed response… Perhaps we have passed by each other on the streets already. Just outside Russia Sushi maybe.

Mai: Near miss.

TarouTanaka: Oh, I go to the bowling alley right next door all the time.

Bacura: And I went to the Taiwanese restaurant on the third floor and the arcade on the second floor pretty often.

Saika: everyone knows so much.

TarouTanaka: Well, out of all of us, I bet Kanra knows the most about this place.

Kanra has entered the chat.

Kanra: Yoo-hoo, everyone!

Kanra: Oh, we have some newcomers.

TarouTanaka: Good evening.

Kuru: It has been quite a while, Kanra. To think that our reunion would take place not in the flesh, but the cybernetic world! The Internet can make the distance between people shrink or grow… A truly futuristic tool, in my opinion.

Mai: Long time no see.

Bacura: Evenin’.

Kanra: Umm…hang on a sec.

<Private Mode> Kanra: Is that you, Kururi and Mairu?

<Private Mode> Kanra: How’d you get the address to this chat?!

<Private Mode> Kuru: Miss Namie thoughtfully told us, Brother Izaya.

<Private Mode> Kanra: …So she already made contact with you…?

<Private Mode> Kanra: Listen to me. Just leave for today.

<Private Mode> Kanra: There are lots of things I need to tell you about later.

<Private Mode> Kuru: I understand, Brother. I look forward to hearing your voice in person.

Mai: Okay, I’m leaving.

TarouTanaka: ?

<Private Mode> Kanra: Use private mode! Whatever, just log off!

Kuru: Kanra says that he hates us, so we are going to leave.

Kanra: Hey, come on, that’s a little harsh for a joke!  

Kuru: I will pray that the next time we meet, Kanra’s mood has improved.

Saika: fighting is bad

Mai: I’m sorry.

Kanra: Aah! It was a joke! You don’t have to take it so seriously!

Kuru: Well, have a good one, everyone.

Mai: Buh-byes.

TarouTanaka: Oh, good night.

Kuru has left the chat.

Mai has left the chat.

Bacura: Good night. What’s with the “buh-byes” at the end? lol

Saika: good night

Kanra: Enough of that! Let’s regroup and start anew!

TarouTanaka: So, um, who were they after all?

Kanra: Pay them no mind or you’ll die!

TarouTanaka: It causes death?!

Kanra: Just forget it! So anyway…

Kanra: Hiya, it’s me, Kanra!

TarouTanaka: Hello again.

Bacura: ’Sup.

Saika: good evening. it is a pleasure again today.

Kanra: Sure thing.   Is everyone used to the new chat system by now?

TarouTanaka: Yes, the different colors for each person makes it easy to identify who’s who.

Bacura: Indeed,

Bacura: This allows us to gang up on Kanra more vividly than ever.

Kanra: Vividly?! Oh no, what are you going to do to little old me?!

Bacura: An endless repetition of beatings and neglect.

.

.

.

The next day, Ikebukuro

It was a sunny afternoon. Raira Academy uniforms could be spotted here and there throughout the neighborhood.

The first-year students were done with class earlier than second- or third-years, so it was they who were out on the town now.

Kururi and Mairu were walking down the sidewalk next to Sunshine City. They appeared to be walking with purpose—but for whatever reason, Mairu’s footsteps were heavy. It was as if the soles of her feet were sending roots into the earth, and for this one moment, her face was actually gloomier than Kururi’s.

“…Cheer up.”

“Ugh…I’m sorry, Kuru, I’m sorry… But it’s such a terrible shock…”

Mairu was holding a tabloid paper in her hand.

On the front it read “Yuuhei Hanejima and Ruri Hijiribe in a Late-Night Tryst?!,” complete with an article describing the discovery of a meeting between Mairu’s beloved Yuuhei Hanejima and megastar singer Ruri Hijiribe in the middle of the night.

“Yuuhei… Yuuhei’s going to belong to someone else… Oh, if only this Ruri was Kururi instead, then I could bear it. I’d be delighted, in fact! So why, why?! My heart is being torn to pieces! The value of my sadness is equal to Graham’s number!”

Graham’s number was the greatest “meaningful number,” according to the Guinness Book of World Records, an amount so vast that anyone who wasn’t well versed in mathematics would quickly overheat in the attempt to comprehend it.

Her sister might not have understood the significance of that, but she did recognize Mairu’s shock. Kururi curled around in the center of the sidewalk and sealed her little sister’s lips shut with her own.

“Mm…!”

Just like Aoba yesterday, Mairu’s eyes widened in surprise.

Two teenage girls locked in a passionate kiss right on the street. It was a sight both tantalizingly illicit and abnormal, and if a staff writer for Wakahime Club had been present, he would have snapped photos with tears in his eyes.

Mairu was surprised by that unexpected action but soon took on a blissful look and clutched back at her sister’s body.

As if on cue, Kururi pulled her lips away and grinned.

“…Feeling better?”

“Yeah! I feel way better! Girls’ lips are so soft and wonderful! Especially yours, Kuru! Can I shout yahoo? Yahoo! One more time! One more time!” Mairu danced, writhing with stimulation.

Kururi’s smile vanished. “…You’re creepy.”

“What?! That’s messed up! It’s the most messy of messed-up messes! Just after we had rekindled our love for one another! Not only that, you kiss another girl—your own sister, to boot—and then claim it’s creepy? What’s that about?! Is this a honey trap?! Are you luring me in just to criticize me?! No fair! It’s like… Oh, I know! It’s like you’re the Road Runner, and I’m Wile E. Coyote!”

Mairu’s analogy didn’t make much sense. Kururi hung her head in troubled exasperation, then grinned again as she looked up.

But before she could say anything—

“Hey, heyyy! What’s up, girls? Quite a show you’re puttin’ on!”

“I mean, two girls makin’ out in the middle of the day? Crazy aggressive stunt, yeah?”

“More like aggresstunt, am I right? Hah.”

“So that’s hilarious and all, but can you let us get in on that tip?”

“Why do you do it between girls? It makes no sense. You do that because the guys give you no attention?”

“’Cuz we’ll step in and provide!”

“But only if you can tell us where to find the Black Rider.”

From somewhere inconspicuous, where they had noticed the rather attention-grabbing stunt of girls’ kissing, emerged a group of very conspicuous men dressed in striped motorcycle gang outfits.

And as a result, the girls, too, were dragged into Ikebukuro’s holiday.