Durarara!! - Volume 6 - Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Everything Resolves and Explodes

Somewhere in the Kanto region

Izaya Orihara was in a town in the northern part of Kanto, the region of the country around Tokyo.

He was in the process of walking from a train station on one line to a station on another and, as with everywhere else, was surrounded by families carrying out their Golden Week vacation travel.

But his eyes were glued to his phone screen.

He was busy reading as he walked, but despite the very crowded environment, he somehow never bumped into anyone.

Some kind of chat room was displayed on the screen of his phone. He watched the list of users with names like Bacura, Kuru, and Mai leave the room, then smiled gleefully to himself.

It’s just about time.

He tapped the power button on the phone and shut down the Internet screen.

As soon as he did, the phone began to vibrate with a call from someone.

The name on the screen read “Masaomi Kida.”

Bingo. 

He flicked the screen playfully, then reached for the ANSWER button.

“Hello?”

“…Hello.”

“Ahh, it’s you. What’s with the sudden call? Didn’t we finish talking this morning? Or did you start to miss the sound of my voice? That’s a lot of baggage for me to deal with. In fact, I just don’t have time to cheer you up, so let Saki do the heavy lifting in that department.”

“And I don’t have time to listen to your stupid jokes.”

“What’s the matter? You sound angry to me,” Izaya taunted.

Masaomi’s response was thick with rage through the speaker. “What did you say to Mikado?”

“What do you mean?”

“You were the one logging in with my username in the chat room, weren’t you?”

“Where’s your proof?”

“Nobody else would do something like this.”

“It could be a conspiracy by Kuru and Mai. We don’t know what kind of person Setton might really be, either, and Saika has a history of trolling our chat room, if you remember.”

“That’s my proof, just now: I accused you, and rather than directly saying no, you tried to distract me with other answers.”

“And you think that’s going to persuade a jury? But I suppose I can give you a passing grade. Sure, it was me who used your name online. I’ve got to admit, it’s very tough to pull you off accurately.”

“…What did you say to Mikado?”

“Why do you think I said something to Mikado? You were just talking with Kuru and Mai in the chat room. Did they suggest that they had seen you talking with TarouTanaka?”

“If the Izaya Orihara I know is fraudulently using my name to achieve something, I can’t imagine what else he would do. If you were trying to screw me over, you would just do that in real life.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right. So what do you intend to do about this?”

“Answer my question…”

“If only we had the time for that. Aren’t you aware of what’s happening in Ikebukuro right now?”

“…Huh?”

“Ah, right. You’ve been shutting out all Dollars information ever since that big brouhaha. Well, I don’t blame you, I suppose.”

“What are you talking about…? Is something happening in Ikebukuro now?”

“Why don’t you just call Mikado and ask him yourself?”

“…Izaya, you son of a…”

“Why can’t you? You’re great friends, aren’t you? Just call him and clear the air. Tell him Izaya Orihara’s a terrible, evil man, and everything you heard from me yesterday came from him, so forget all about it… Probably too late at this point, though. But let him hear your voice. Why don’t you just do that? Assuming that you’re really bound by irreplaceable friendship.”

“…Knock it off.”

“However you might see it, that’s definitely how Mikado does. He’s just too soft for his own good. There’s no helping him. But that’s what makes him so worthwhile. The perfect sacrificial lamb.”

“I told you, knock it off—!”

Midbellow, Izaya hung up.

“I don’t like being yelled at. Besides, I’m already at the station.”

He reached the station for his connecting train. He had a pass card, but he went out of his way to buy an individual ticket. Once he had checked the arrival time of his train, he started fiddling with his phone again, checking messages.

“Well, it’s no fun to have the Dollars kicked around continuously like this…so…,” he muttered, then removed a second phone from his pocket.

He began to hit the buttons on this new phone—with fingers full of certain malice and twisted love for humanity.

One hour earlier, all-girls’ academy

On a major street running under the Metropolitan Expressway from Ikebukuro Station to Sunshine City, two men faced off in front of an all-girls’ school.

One was a dashing young man wearing a thin beanie, while the other young fellow had a straw hat and bandages on his face and arms.

The injured man, Chikage Rokujou, wore a confident smile on his face, while Kyouhei Kadota, in the beanie, scowled as if chewing on something bitter.

“…Son of a bitch.”

Kadota’s phone had just gotten a message. The text on the screen was an emergency warning.

The Dollars were under attack at locations all around Ikebukuro.

“What are you…what are you people doing here?” He glared.

“I just came to pay you back for the fight you started,” Chikage replied, all smiles. “Take it all—no change needed.”

“So…this is vengeance for the guys who me and Shizuo beat right here? Then, you got a crazy misunderstanding. We didn’t do that as the Dollars. I was just pissed off and had a personal argument.”

As he stared down his opponent, Kadota paid close attention to the sounds around him and Chikage’s line of vision. Perhaps this man was just a decoy, and others would ambush him from the sides or rear.

But he didn’t detect anyone around them except for ordinary pedestrians. A few of them glanced at the two men oddly facing each other in the middle of the sidewalk, but as soon as they detected the gang member nature of the two, they would look away and distance themselves.

Chikage leaned back against the wall of the girls’ academy where it bordered the sidewalk, his eyes glinting wickedly through the bandages. “Well, in that case, it was our fault to start with, so I don’t blame you for that. But I did go after that Shizuo Heiwajima guy for takin’ it overboard, though.”

“…Oh. Did Shizuo do that to your face?”

“He kicked my ass. What is that guy, a supervillain?” Chikage grunted. He fiddled with the brim of his straw hat and asked, “So we closed the book on that matter… But do you know what your Dollars did in Saitama?”

“?”

“…That look on your face is telling me no.”

Kadota’s brows were furrowed. Chikage collected himself and began to explain.

“Man, what a loony gang y’all are. Don’t even know what your own mates are getting up to.”

“…”

“If you only went after our guys, then I might be able to write it off as payback for what we did in Ikebukuro…but you beat up others who just happened to be there at the time, like some of our little brothers. You can’t expect us not to retaliate for that.”

Chikage twisted his neck, cracking the vertebrae, and lifted his back from the wall.

“Plus, you burned our bikes up and even threw a tag on our symbol, spelled ‘Dalars’ like a real smart-ass. How long do you think it took us to put up that tag in the first place? We found somewhere outta the way so it wouldn’t get erased, and they tracked it down and got rid of it.”

“Beats me, man. Besides, tagging itself is being a pain in the ass to society as a whole,” Kadota snapped.

“…Well, fair enough. Forget that part.” Chikage grinned. “I never expected to get a lecture from one of the Dollars about ethical behavior. You’re kinda fun.”

“So what do you want with me? You’re the head of Toramaru, right?”

More messages poured into Kadota’s phone. He didn’t divert any attention to them, but he continued glaring at the other man.

“If you came seeking me out, and it wasn’t for payback against Ikebukuro, then what is it?”

“You’re one of the big shots in the Dollars, right?”

“Huh?”

Hang on, since when have people been saying that? Kadota wondered, aghast.

Chikage blazed straight ahead with his question: “Who the hell is the boss, then?”

“…”

So that’s what this is about.

Kadota sighed. He finally realized that the situation around him—not just this man here, but everything going on with the Dollars—was a much bigger pain in the ass than he thought it was.

“I’ve got business with him, so drag that guy out here now.”

“Dunno.”

“Come on, you can do this for me.”

“No, I’m saying…I dunno who leads the Dollars.”

This time it was Chikage’s turn to come to a halt.

Huh? No way… You can’t tell me you don’t know the guy who runs your entire gang. On the other hand, I had trouble figuring that out using the Internet…

“Don’t bullshit me, man. You gotta know,” he insisted.

“You know much about locusts?”

“Is this a joke?”

“Just hear me out. You know locusts? Travel in swarms. They eat up all the wheat and grain in swarms of thousands, millions, even billions,” Kadota explained, reaching out to touch the academy wall and stretching his shoulders. By moving to the edge of the sidewalk, foot traffic could pass much easier now. People flowed by, no longer curious about the conversation happening between the two young men.

“You think those locusts know who their leader is? I don’t know if they even have leaders like queen bees or ants. The Dollars do apparently have some kind of leader, but I don’t know who it is, and I’ve never taken orders from ’em.”

“…”

“What I’m sayin’ is that the Dollars ain’t bees or ants. They’re locusts or those schools of ocean fish. Or if I had to make it simpler… Well, maybe this ain’t the best analogy, but they’re like a country or a tribe, possibly. If a guy from one country kills someone in another country, all the people in the first guy’s country look like enemies to them. So what you’re doing right now…it’s like if they decided to blast ’em with air strikes or terrorist bombings, innocent civilians be damned. Get it?” Kadota explained, with more than a bit of irony. He waited for the other guy to react.

“I don’t think you’re right about that,” Chikage argued. “Pretty much all of the Dollars are there because they want to be, right? If anything, it’s more like a school club or athletic team.”

“…Maybe.”

“Think about how often you hear about someone on a sports team causing a scandal and taking down some of his teammates when he gets kicked out. If you’re calling yourself a member of the Dollars team without considering that possibility—whether it’s fair or not—that just makes you an idiot,” he argued, responding to Kadota’s jab with what he meant to be a challenge. But instead of having the intended effect, Kadota actually smiled.

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“What?”

“It’s true—if you’re gonna rep a team and enjoy the benefits of their reputation, you can’t just turn around and say, ‘Not my problem, peace!’ when things go bad. At any rate, I’m ready to hear out and accept the truth…but just because others don’t get it and mess around doesn’t mean I wanna laugh at them and say they got what they deserved,” Kadota muttered, somewhat resigned.

Chikage sensed some change in Kadota’s attitude, turned to face the other man directly, and asked, “What are you trying to say?”

Kadota just grinned a bit.

“I’m saying that I accept your fight.”

“…Hah!” Chikage gasped, delight coloring his features. “I like you. You’re old school. Not a gang member, more like one of those classic schoolyard bosses.”

“We’ll stick out here. Let’s find somewhere else to do this,” Kadota suggested.

Chikage shook his head, smiling. “Nah, no need.”

“Oh yeah?”

“It’ll be over in a second.”

Chikage was airborne before the last words were even out of his mouth.

Just as he had done when sneak attacking Shizuo Heiwajima, he leaped off a guardrail.

This one was not a dropkick, but a side kick as he twisted diagonally. The sole of his right foot closed in on Kadota’s temple.

But the perfectly timed kick hit nothing but air.

Kadota swayed out of the way just before the blow, backed up a step, and waited for his opponent to land.

The passersby stopped in astonishment when they saw a young man abruptly leap into a kick attack on the sidewalk and hastily pulled back to keep their distance.

“How many hours does a ‘second’ take for you?” Kadota taunted. He noticed the murmuring around them and said again, “Let’s go elsewhere.”

“…Good idea,” Chikage said. He had noticed from Kadota’s smooth evasion that the man was an experienced fighter. He decided to accept his opponent’s suggestion and followed obediently.

Is there even a good place to fight around here, though? There are police outposts all over the place…and as far as I can tell from all the shrines and parks I visited with the honeys yesterday, they’ll all be crowded during the day…

Chikage began to wonder if they were heading for the roof of some office building. Instead, right at the intersection with Sixtieth Floor Street, near the Tokyu Hands building, Kadota hailed a taxi next to the light.

He opened the door and slid right inside. Noticing that Chikage wasn’t following, he looked out and asked, “What are you doing? Get in.”

“We’re gonna take a taxi to the place?” the other man asked, stunned.

Kadota smirked.

“Listen, I’m a working man. I can afford a taxi, so get in.”

Raira Academy Field Two, behind the storage shed

The athletic field at Raira Academy, not too far from Ikebukuro Station, was covered in green grass.

There was a field next to the school building, too, but it was too small for baseball, soccer, and lacrosse teams to practice on at the same time, so a number of the school’s sports teams headed to this secondary field for their activities instead.

At the moment, the kabaddi and girls’ soccer teams were having practice, so the sounds of activity echoed around the storage shed, most notably with odd chants of “Kabaddi, kabaddi, kabaddi…”

Chikage marveled from the corner of this secluded field. “Never expected to see a place like this in the middle of Ikebukuro.”

The shed was surrounded by trees, giving it the appearance of a park. There was a good amount of space between the fence and the shed building and plenty of cover to keep the rear hidden from anyone in front of the shed.

As Chikage looked around the place, Kadota did some easy arm stretches. “They were originally going to put another storage building in this spot, but once they started using the first one, they realized that was all they needed.”

“You seem pretty well-informed.”

“I used to go here.” Kadota snorted. “At the time, this was one of our favorite fighting spots. I’ve seen a lotta people laid out here, thanks to Shizuo. Not a bad place for a nap, what with all the shade.”

“Gotcha. So you feel like taking one right now, you’re saying?”

“Sorry, not interested. Now that Raira’s all settled down, this is more of a date spot for couples looking for a quiet, private place at night.”

“Damn, that’s a good tip. Gotta take the honeys here sometime.”

They looked at each other and laughed. When the laughs cooled down, their faces tightened.

“So, shall we start? You sure you’re not gonna use that weapon you’re packing? It’s a short wooden sword or something like that, isn’t it?” Kadota asked.

Chikage put a hand to the thing stashed under the back of his jacket. “Oh, so you noticed?”

“I caught a glimpse of it when you jump kicked at me. You’re injured already, so I’ll give you the handicap of a weapon.”

“How about I lend it to you to give you a leg up, old man?”

“I’m not even twenty-five yet, you brat.”

And after those simple insults, without further signal, the two started running at each other. Arms and fists collided, and the sounds of the kabaddi and girls’ soccer teams’ voices were joined by the dull thudding of flesh.

But they did not realize that the Dollars were truly everywhere in Ikebukuro.

Kadota did not even know that he was considered a big shot among the Dollars.

And they also did not realize that at this point in time, an e-mail was already making its way around the Dollars, sent by the student manager of a certain girls’ soccer team on campus.

“Kadota just walked around back at Raira Field Two! He was with some scary-looking guy—it could be those people attacking the Dollars now! I doubt Kadota would lose in a fight, but I can’t help but worry! \(> <)/”

Along with a helpful cell phone snapshot of the two walking along.

At that moment, somewhere in Tokyo, abandoned factory

“…Man, that was a hell of an interruption,” Aoba sighed.

He was still in the factory building after Mikado and Celty left. The squabble was finished now, and his Blue Squares comrades laughed and joked around him—while men in leather jackets and biker uniforms lay prone on the ground.

The Toramaru bikers were all knocked out, surrounded by bloodied pipes and broken two-by-fours.

The delinquent youths hadn’t escaped unscathed; many of them had suffered some kind of injury in the fight. Aoba himself had a scratch on his face and a little trail of blood coming from the corner of his mouth.

Still, he surveyed the scene with confident, undamaged pride and said, “I’m glad you’re all doing well. If nothing else, you guys can take punishment.”

His tone was quite different than when he addressed Mikado. The younger boy’s comrades laughed off his snarky compliment and said, “Hee-hee! Easy-peasy. These guys are just pussies.”

“You know, it’s not that convincing when you’ve got blood pouring down your face, Neko.”

“What, this? Nah, it’s tomato juice. Hee-hee!”

“You know, it’s a good thing Yatsufusa isn’t here.”

“Yeah, if he was, he might be dead right now.”

“Since he’s so sickly.”

“Dude’s just a bean sprout.”

“That Mikado guy was pretty bean sprouty, too, huh?”

“Yeah, Aoba. That was my first time seeing the guy. You sure he was the one who started the Dollars?”

“You better not be messin’ with our heads, Aoba.”

“If you are, I’ll kill you!” “I’ll take your girlfriend!”

“Wait, does Aoba even have a girlfriend?”

“You know, those twins.”

“…Yeah, I’m killin’ him! You’re a dead man!”

“Calm down.”

“Aoba’s acting tough, but he took some shots. He might actually die.”

“That’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” “Hee-hee!”

“…Listen, Kururi and Mairu kissed me, but that doesn’t make them my girlfriends…”

“Now I remember! I’ll kill you!”

“Wow, first-name basis?” “You’re that close already?” “I’ll kill you!” “Die!”

Aoba ignored his companions’ idiotic jokes and threats and stared them all down coldly. “Besides, if you think Mikado’s a bean sprout, that makes me one, too.”

His eyes stopped on one groaning man in a leather jacket trying to get to his feet. Aoba walked over toward him. “Plus, I’m betting that he’s never even been in a fight before.”

Aoba drove his knee into the biker’s face, right as the man was standing up at last. He screamed and passed out on the spot, and Aoba stepped on his back as he walked over him. “Which might be exactly why he was able to create the Dollars in the first place.”

“I don’t get it.” “Yatsufusa’s the only one who can figure out what Aoba means when he gets weird like this.” “Doesn’t he make a good match for those crazy twin chicks, though?” “I’ll kill him!” “Knock it off, Yoshikiri. You got porridge for brains?” “Okay, you die!” “Oh, there’s a cockroach.” “Catch it!” “Fry it up!” “Wait, is that bet still on?” “Seriously, porridge.” “What? Cockroach porridge?” “…” “…” “…Bleagh!”

That mental image caused a number of the delinquents to gag, and they ran out of the factory.

While all this nonsense was happening around him, Aoba was lost in thought.

The question is…how did they know this place?

His mind worked silently as he stared down at the biker he was using as a footrest.

I could threaten them for answers…but these are the kind of guys who don’t rat out their friends.

…Did Izaya Orihara leak the information…or am I overthinking this?

No, if anything, you need to overthink him to keep up.

Another message lit up Aoba’s phone. Similar ringers went off around the gang, indicating that it was a Dollars’ mailing list text.

It said that Kadota, a well-known member of the Dollars, was heading for Raira Academy Field Two with a suspicious-looking man.

Man, if the cops found out about this mailing list, that would be bad.

Actually…did Mikado set up this list? When I checked the history, it sounded like one of the members suggested the idea, and then it just sprang into being. Does that mean an investigation wouldn’t lead it back to Mikado?

Aoba opened a photo file attached to the e-mail.

Huh? Isn’t that…?

He looked at the man shown next to Kadota.

The Toramaru boss? Well, it doesn’t look like they’re going to talk out their troubles.

“Hey, can anyone rush over to Raira Field Two to check it out?” Aoba suggested.

A boy with dyed brown hair elected himself out of the crowd. “All right, I can go.”

“Thanks, Gin.”

The kid named Gin headed to a corner of the factory. He hopped onto the motorcycle parked there with practiced ease.

“Whoa, you just gonna ride off with that?”

“Well, I was just noticing,” Gin said with a laugh, bringing the engine to life with a roar, “they left the key in the ignition.”

The abandoned bike’s engine revved. The other youths in the building exclaimed at his sheer good luck.

“No…wait. Get off that, Gin.”

Nobody else was bothering to prevent him from stealing the motorcycle, but Aoba sensed something suspicious, dangerous, at play.

“How come, Aoba? Are you seriously gonna give me a sermon about how stealing is bad?”

“And are you going to pretend you’re not the type to claim stuff that’s been abandoned in a factory?”

“Well, that’s still a crime.” “What, it is?” “Sure is.” “If you pick up a bicycle left at the dump, the cops’ll pull you over. Didn’t you know that?” “Are you serious?!” “Damn, I’m afraid of bikes now!”

Aoba examined the motorcycle thoroughly, ignoring the typical jabbering of his friends. He noticed that there was a black thread tangled around the rear of the vehicle.

…What is this?

It didn’t seem to be made of any fiber Aoba had seen before. It was so dark that it almost seemed like shadow in physical form and was as smooth as nylon, but without any hint of reflection.

The thread extended from the motorcycle and out of the factory in an unbroken line.

This stuff looks a lot like the Black Rider’s suit.

“Hey, Gin, change of plans. I bet all these Toramaru guys’ bikes are parked near the factory. Take one of those instead.”

“Huh? How come? What’s going on?” Gin asked. Aoba thought about the Black Rider from earlier and announced his next plan of action.

“I’m gonna follow this thread. No idea where it goes, though.”

Sunshine building, sky deck, Ikebukuro

The Sunshine 60 building was once the tallest in Japan.

But even now, when the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building in Shinjuku reigns supreme, the sixty-story building is a visual symbol that looms over Ikebukuro, serving as a landmark of the neighborhood to all who live there or visit.

The complex contains an aquarium and an indoor theme park, but despite these and other tourist attractions, one of the most popular spots remains the observation deck. Even higher than that deck is a rooftop “sky deck” that opens on weekends and holidays like Golden Week.

In a corner of this sky deck, a man in a bartender uniform looked out upon the city.

“…Shoulda figured I can’t see that fleabrain with a telescope…”

Once he was certain that he had temporarily shaken his Awakusu-kai pursuers, Shizuo headed for the Sunshine building and made his way up to this rooftop observatory.

This was because he considered a crowded location a safer shelter from the mobsters than someplace secluded. And unlike a department store within the building, this place was a bit easier to manage in terms of watching who was coming and going. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he couldn’t stay all that long.

Well, it doesn’t seem like they’ve contacted the police at all, he considered, letting the cool breeze blow over his heated body. So…what now? They might have gone to the office or Tom’s place already. And I shouldn’t trust that Kasuka’s or Shinra’s places will be safe, either… Shit.

Izaya had played him for a fool, and now peril was approaching his job, family, and friends. It made him furious to realize how easily he’d been framed.

Shizuo gazed over the magnificent view of the observation deck and thought, Actually, maybe Celty could ride her motorcycle up the wall to this spot. If I need to, I suppose I could have her haul Izaya up here for me.

But no sooner had he considered this than he realized that it would be dragging Celty into this stupid mess, too, and instantly ruled the option out.

Plus, if I knock Izaya off this platform, that would be traumatizing to the people on this deck. Can’t do that, he thought. It was a sensible idea for a person who made such little sense himself. He mulled over his future prospects.

He was on the run from the Awakusu-kai. If he struck back at them at any point, it would be tantamount to admitting his own crime. Once that happened, they would come after him by whatever means necessary to restore their dignity and honor.

Shizuo wasn’t afraid of fighting them alone, but that would almost certainly lead to the Awakusu-kai taking his brother and friends hostage.

They might even go after that little Akane girl, just for being around me, he thought, worrying about the girl who tried to kill him without realizing that she was actually an Awakusu VIP herself.

Even if he wanted to surrender himself to them, he still needed evidence that he wasn’t the culprit first. And if anyone had that evidence, it would be Izaya Orihara.

And I don’t think…he killed those three guys.

Izaya didn’t have the physical strength to kill three men in that manner. And most importantly, he couldn’t possibly have a reason to make such a certain enemy out of the Awakusu-kai.

So maybe he got information that someone was going to kill the Awakusu-kai and manipulated me into going there…

That—conniving—son—of—a—bitch.

Shizuo felt anger rising within him again. He considered heading for Izaya’s hideout in Shinjuku.

If that paper on the door was a fake, the information broker still may not be inside, but he might find something useful. And if Shizuo could use that to negotiate with the Awakusu-kai, it might actually succeed in getting them to chase after Izaya instead.

I wanted to pound him into Tokyo Bay myself, but whatever, he’ll reap what he’s sowed. Well, he has to, or the others will be in danger.

With this plan settled, Shizuo was ready to leave the rooftop deck—and realized that his phone’s text notification sound had been going off.

You know, I think I heard it going crazy while I was on the run, too.

He opened up the phone and received a ton of information all at once.

The Dollars are under attack…? Wait, the Awakusu aren’t attacking them all over the place because of me, are they?!

Soon he realized that the situation was not what he first assumed. A biker gang from Saitama was racing around Ikebukuro, beating down anyone who dared rep the Dollars.

…Is this a war?

Shizuo had been through more than enough of that stuff in high school, so it seemed less worrisome than what he was dealing with now. He was ready to focus on his own situation again, except…

Is it just me, or is this timing a little too perfect?

It could have all been a freak coincidence, but given all the stuff that had happened to him in the span of two days, he began to realize the variety of nonsense going on in Ikebukuro at the moment, particularly around himself.

The next-to-most recent message had a photo attached. “Isn’t that Field Two at Raira?”

It was the place he often used in high school when other schools wanted to tussle and he had no choice but to designate a fighting spot. Against this familiar backdrop were two familiar faces.

It’s Kadota and…that guy from two days ago. From what Tom said, he was the boss of some group called Toramaru. Kid must be tough—he can’t have recovered from what I did to him yet.

Recalling the fight from the other day allowed Shizuo the ability to rationally organize some of the incoming information.

So does that mean Toramaru are the ones attacking the Dollars? If that’s the case, that Chikage guy didn’t really seem all that unreasonable to me. Well…I bet Kadota is capable of handling that, he decided optimistically. He then opened up the most recent message that had just lit up his phone.

His expression hardened.

…I feel sick.

The look on his face changed dramatically.

This wasn’t the same kind of anger he felt toward Izaya and his own stupidity.

The e-mail was from a sender named Nakura.

The title was “Crucial intel!” and the subsequent content of the message read…

Near Kawagoe Highway, apartment building, basement garage

An enormous mass of shadow slid into the quiet parking garage.

There you go, well done! Thank you, Shooter!

Celty stopped her carriage in the corner of the lot, stroking the headless horse’s back.

There were hardly any cars in the garage, perhaps because everyone was traveling for Golden Week.

She freed Mikado and Anri from the shadow seat belts in the rear seat of the carriage, then removed Akane Awakusu from her own back and set the girl down on the ground.

The little girl looked dazed and didn’t get more than a step before she crumpled.

Uh-oh, you okay? Celty wondered, extending a helping hand, but Akane only trembled. Oh…of course.

She’d just been lashed to the back of a bizarre creature producing tendrils of shadow, then taken on a breakneck race through Ikebukuro’s street. The girl didn’t know this, but Celty had even gone to the extreme measure of creating momentary shadow bridges ahead of her to get them past two red lights along the way.

I guess I’m not too shabby after all, Celty thought, proud of herself for pulling off a maneuver she hadn’t been sure would work. A number of drivers had slammed on their brakes when they saw it, and she was relieved that they didn’t cause any pileups.

The trickiest part had been just before entering the driveway down into the garage.

Anyone was bound to notice a shadowy carriage riding around in the middle of the day during a busy holiday. If she stopped at her own apartment building, it would inevitably lead to a crush of police and media there. She was normally careful to avoid attention, but that was impossible with the carriage.

So Celty came up with a plan: She went up an alley before arriving at her building, made sure that no one was watching, then crafted a station wagon body of shadow that would hide Shooter and the carriage from view.

It would be alien on close examination, of course, but at a distance, it was just an oddly large black station wagon, and this was how they were able to slip into the parking garage before they caught any attention.

“It’s okay. I’m on your side, Akane. Don’t worry,” Celty typed into the PDA, using simple words to ensure that the girl would understand, and showed it to her.

Akane watched her with suspicion at first, but after reading the message, she seemed a little less wary. “Are you a good guy, mister…?”

“Actually, I’m a miss, not a mister,” she wrote.

Akane gasped and started bowing in apology. “I—I’m sorry! Miss!”

“It’s all right. I’m not mad.”

This exchange seemed to have softened the tension of the situation, and Akane looked up—only to see the headless horse at the back of the scene. She gasped and hid behind Anri.

Oh, crap. Celty glanced back at her partner and realized that the sight of a horse without a head was a bit much for a child to bear. And then…

Huh? Shooter moved to hide behind the carriage after Akane shrieked, keeping his headless neck out of the girl’s sight. Oh no, Shooter’s taking it pretty hard!

Shooter had greater intelligence than the average horse and could tell that Akane was afraid of him. He couldn’t be blamed for being upset that the passenger he worked so hard to transport was also deathly afraid of him.

In fact, the sight of Shooter’s headless neck drooping toward the ground was the very expression of depression. Celty rushed to stroke his back with one hand while she typed up a message with the other. When the message was finished, she returned to Akane and showed the frightened girl the screen.

“It’s all right, Akane. You remember that sweet-bun hero who fights germs? Well, just like him, that horsey needs to switch to a new head after he uses his powers. So there’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Celty went back to Shooter, fashioned a piece of shadow armor in the shape of a horse’s head (with a unicorn horn to boot), and placed it on Shooter’s neck.

The cyborg Shooter followed Celty’s lead at a calm pace back toward Akane. The girl flinched once, but now that the horse had a head—or at least a helmet—she felt bold enough to stare at the creature’s body from behind Anri’s back.

“Go on, he’s not scary,” Celty typed on her PDA for the girl. Akane looked up at Anri.

“It’s safe. That’s a very nice horse,” Anri reassured her with a smile, having been on his back on multiple occasions before. Shooter’s tail flapped back and forth in response.

Emboldened by this guarantee, Akane examined Shooter again and tried petting his leg. The headless horse could tell that her fear was ebbing and happily knelt down to facilitate easier petting.

He’s so easy to please, Celty thought, relieved that her mount was back to good spirits.

Meanwhile, Mikado felt a bit uneasy about how quickly the girl had proceeded to petting the horse.

Would you normally get used to the idea right away, just because she put a helmet on it? he wondered, feeling the girl’s actions were a bit off. Perhaps, like him, she was predisposed to accepting the extraordinary quicker than others.

His guess was incorrect, but not entirely off the mark. He couldn’t have known that a part of Akane Awakusu’s heart was already broken in some way. Instead, he wondered, Who is this girl, anyway? She seems to know Sonohara and Celty…

Mikado felt a bit uneasy about being the only one out of the loop in this situation.

And recognizing this unease, he recalled the words that Izaya had told him that morning.

“…It’s not the Dollars going out of control that you’re afraid of, is it?

“…Aren’t you just afraid that they’re going to change and leave you behind?”

He had denied those words on the spot.

He had shouted, “That’s not true!” out of sheer reflex, but the words were out of his mouth before he even registered the statement. As a result, he didn’t actually know if it was wrong or not.

With this exchange at the front of his mind, Mikado told himself that it had nothing to do with his current situation and decided he would ask them about this strange girl.

“So, um, who is…?”

Just at that moment, the phone in his shirt pocket started buzzing.

—!

That sound dragged Mikado back to reality.

The shock of their carriage escape had driven out all thoughts of the Dollars and the danger facing them and him both, a fact that he recalled at last.

What…what should I do?

The sense of confusion from the factory returned at once. But if he bottled it all up himself, he would only repeat his anguish from that scene all over again.

He looked at Celty. His problem seemed like the kind of thing he couldn’t tell anyone about, but here was someone who actually knew that he was a founder of the Dollars. He made up his mind to ask her…

“Oh, this is Akane. She seems to know Mr. Heiwajima somehow,” Anri said, picking up on what Mikado started to ask earlier and introducing the girl to him.

“Huh? Oh, uh, right.” Mikado came back to his senses. If he told Celty all about his problems, Anri would learn everything. And in doing so, he would involve her in his mess just by her presence here.

What the hell am I doing? How could I not realize something as basic as that?

He was even more confused than he realized. Mikado decided that what he needed most was to rest his mind.

Yes, I was the one who started the Dollars. So I’m responsible for what happens…

He’d had this thought in one form or another for a long time. But this particular instance was too much for him to handle on his own, and the stakes were too high for him to keep it to himself.

He knew that. Mikado knew that.

Which raised the question: Who to tell?

Celty would be the quickest answer, as she knew who he was, but between those stone-faced men earlier and this little girl, she seemed to have some issues of her own to deal with.

Another person who knew him as a founder of the Dollars was Izaya Orihara, but they’d just talked on the phone this morning. He couldn’t call him again for help so quickly.

But this probably isn’t the time to hesitate about………

Then, he remembered one other person who probably knew about him.

Masaomi…

He didn’t know how much Masaomi had learned through that squabble between the Yellow Scarves and Dollars. But he probably should assume that his status as founder was a known fact. For example, that warning from the chat room yesterday could be taken as a prediction of today’s events happening to Mikado.

Thanks, Masaomi. If it wasn’t for that warning…I might have been intimidated by Aoba into doing what he wanted, Mikado thought, not realizing that the Bacura he was thanking wasn’t actually his longtime friend.

But Aoba isn’t…normal. At this rate, he’ll get what he wants from me…and take over the Dollars.

That’s the last thing I want.

The Dollars can’t belong to someone specific. That’s not how it works.

He murmured a few generic comments to convince Anri that he was listening, but on the inside, Mikado was steeling his resolve.

I’ll talk to Izaya.

I can’t ask him to solve everything for me, but if I talk to him, I might see a direction to move forward.

He had no idea that this was the same route his former best friend Masaomi had already taken.

And without realizing that this same course of action led Masaomi to disaster—Mikado began to feel a kind of safety in the idea of Izaya.

While this was going on, Celty was trying to type up an explanation of why the girl was here.

“Well, how do I explain this? I was asked to protect her for a job. I can provide more detail when we get up to Shinra’s apartment.”

Mikado’s phone vibrated at that moment. It had gone off a number of times while he was strapped into the carriage, but naturally, he hadn’t been in any state to check his text messages.

It could be about Aoba’s group getting up to no good after he ran off. He had no idea what was happening in that abandoned factory right now.

He opened the messages list, wondering if he’d find out new information about that, and selected the most recent one at the top.

It came from one Nakura.

Oh, I recognize that name. They write on the Dollars’ board sometimes, Mikado recalled, but that was the extent of his connection to the name.

But the title, “Crucial intel!” naturally piqued his interest.

It might be a dud, but Nakura had been registered on the Dollars’ site from a fairly early stage of its existence.

The e-mail contained both the message body and a photo attachment.

“…?”

Mikado’s face went briefly blank when he saw the contents.

With his wits already slightly scrambled in this situation, he didn’t have the ability to put together what this Nakura person was saying.

Or perhaps he did—and just didn’t want to admit it.

“…No way,” he gasped the moment the meaning of the message sank in.

“…Mikado?” Anri asked with concern.

“What’s the matter?” Celty added.

But Mikado’s ears and eyes did not take in these words.

His every nerve was focused on the screen of the phone, trying to formulate a hypothesis that might explain that it was just a mistake.

But no matter how many times he reread the text, the letters stayed the same, and the faces in the attached photo were still there.

“No…no, you can’t!” he mumbled in disbelief. He looked up with a violent start, then bowed to Celty and Anri. “I’m sorry, Celty! I—I’ve got to go somewhere, right now! Sorry to you, too, Sonohara! You should just head home; I don’t think I’ll make it out of this today! Also, if Aoba tries to contact you, whatever you do, don’t answer!”

“Huh…? M-Mikado?”

“Hello?”

Anri and Celty were confused by Mikado’s sudden change. Akane twitched.

But he merely bowed to the three women—and like a fugitive under pressure darted out of the parking garage.

Near Kawagoe Highway, apartment building vicinity

On a side street right off a busy national route, two motorcycles were parked in a hidden spot with a good view of Shinra and Celty’s apartment building.

At the mouth of an alley, one of the riders had a map open, suggesting to any passing drivers that they were looking for a shortcut around the busy area.

As a matter of fact, the map was camouflage—Vorona and Slon were looking over it toward the place where the black station wagon had entered.

As they tracked the Black Rider’s strange carriage, it suddenly entered a side alley. The bikers continued to prowl around the block, pretending to have been thrown off the trail so they could watch the far exit of the alley. Instead, they saw a strange black station wagon emerge. It was hard to tell from a distance, but the vehicle gave off no reflection, as if it were absorbing all light.

They watched the station wagon until it slipped into the basement garage, waited to confirm that no other vehicles emerged, and decided that they’d found the right building. But…

“Someone just came out,” Slon noted.

Vorona glanced over without moving her head. “It’s the boy Black Rider was ferrying. Actions seem to be solitary…”

“In any case, we can pretty much assume that building is the Black Rider’s hideout.”

“Too soon. Perhaps they merely hid in the parking lot temporarily.”

“All right… What about the boy, then?” Slon asked.

Vorona hesitated. He had no direct connection to their contract. But given that he was surrounded by three different targets—the Black Rider, Akane Awakusu, and the mysterious girl in glasses—he couldn’t just be a random passerby. Perhaps they could turn him into bait to lure out one or more of the targets.

Vorona noted the boy’s alarmed behavior and decided, “Boy’s identity is target for consideration. I will follow him. Request Slon remains here to continue pursuit of Black Rider and bespectacled girl. Please understand.”

“Understood—I’m on it.”

Vorona rode forward onto the national route and rolled along slowly, following the boy without overtaking him.

The gaze that she poured onto his back was that of a cold-blooded predator tracking frantic prey.

Basement garage

“Ah…M-Mikado!” Anri called out, startled by his sudden departure.

But he continued without stopping up the ramp to the surface and vanished.

“I wonder what happened…,” she murmured nervously.

Behind her, Celty’s helmet tipped downward in thought. What could it be? It looked like he was examining a Dollars message…

It was probably a notice that Yumasaki or one of his other acquaintances was under attack by Toramaru, she expected, and she opened her own phone to check.

Let’s see. The newest message is…

Celty froze.

As soon as the e-mail body and photo attachment loaded, she understood why Mikado just took off running.

In fact, she wanted to go racing away, too, but Akane’s worried look came into view, giving her the power she needed to stifle that impulse.

“Um, what’s the matter, Celty?” Anri asked. Celty wondered whether or not she should show it to her.

But Anri’s piercing gaze won out, and Celty dropped her shoulders in defeat—and showed her the phone.

When the girl took it and glanced at the screen, she saw…

FROM: Nakura

SUBJECT: Crucial intel!

BODY: So the Dollars are under attack by this motorcycle gang called Toramaru.

 Well, I just saw their leader’s GF eating out in Ikebukuro!

I don’t have the guts to attack them, but if anyone else can, good luck!

It’s the girl on the left in the photo!

The message was simple.

The attached photo was of a number of young women.

It was from a camera phone and framed so that anyone familiar with Ikebukuro could instantly tell where they were.

The photo was taken clandestinely while they were eating, so no one was looking at the camera.

The girl on the far left of the picture looked youthful and naive.

Huh? Wait a minute…

Anri saw the face inside her picture frame to the outside world.

She realized that she’d actually seen this face before and quite recently.

But before she could recall why the girl looked familiar, she noticed the girl on the right edge of the photo.

…Oh…

Kamichika…?

It was Rio Kamichika—the very girl she’d run into at random just minutes earlier. It was indeed Anri and Mikado’s classmate in the picture, but Anri was able to remain calm.

Let’s see… And this Nakura person in the Dollars…is saying that they should capture Kamichika’s friend on the side…

It was happening in the world inside the frame. To Anri, this event might as well be happening on the other side of the planet.

But the boy Mikado had seized Anri’s arm from her spot before the painting—and started to drag her into the other side.

Whether Mikado actually wanted this to happen or not was irrelevant to Anri.

“Celty,” she said, suppressing a particularly violent wave of cursed chanting and staring at the dullahan with great purpose, “I’m going, too.”

Celty considered forcing the girl back but realized that Anri probably wouldn’t listen to her, anyway. She gave up and typed, “The people from yesterday might attack again, so don’t go anywhere without folks around. I don’t think even you can handle being shot with guns. And I recommend being back by nightfall.”

“Of course…oh, and…thank you! Don’t worry, Akane. She’s very nice, so you can wait here with the doctor, okay?”

And just like Mikado had done moments before, Anri bowed and rushed off.

Her pace was much faster and stronger than her appearance and manner would lead one to imagine.

“Do you read me, Vorona?”

“Affirmative.”

Slon was testing that the wireless communication devices in their helmets were working.

Vorona’s motorcycle was just barely within sight for him, but the boy they were tracking was invisible behind the passing cars.

Slon glanced in that direction for just an instant, then back to the girl running down the sidewalk on the far side of the street.

“It’s the target girl with the glasses. She’s racing like hell after the kid.”

“Chasing after the boy? Absence of mistake?”

“…Yep, seems pretty certain to me. I’m not seeing the Black Rider yet, though.”

“Understood. I will follow both the boy and the girl. Catch two birds in a bush,” Vorona replied simply.

Slon joked, “That’s not how the saying goes. I’m sure you can handle it, but remember, we don’t know anything about the boy, either. It’s hard to believe that girl produced a katana from her stomach, but we’ve seen that Black Rider monster in action, too. Watch out if his hand suddenly turns into a gun.”

“Affirmative. He will be worthy opponent.”

Vorona’s voice lilted somewhat through the wireless, revealing to Slon that she was in a state of excitement.

“…Enjoying yourself, Vorona?” he muttered.

Her expression did not change, but there was an element of ecstasy to her voice as she murmured something to herself.

“Presume the boy is also unnatural. I welcome that situation for its own merit.”

Somewhere in the Kanto region

Izaya made his way through the express train packed with vacationers from car to car as it took them away from Tokyo.

At the connection to the two-story green car, right where the stairs separated the two floors, he quietly pulled out his phone to check his messages.

This was not from the Dollars’ mailing list, but Izaya Orihara’s own information network.

He checked over some reports, and his face twisted with pleasure.

So, Mikado…which path will you take?

Whichever one you choose, it is certain to entertain.

Ahh, I just can’t wait. This is why I can never give up people watching.

He grinned gleefully, but that expression changed dramatically when another face floated into his head.

…Seems like Shizu’s doing his best to stay on the run. He should just fight back.

That weirdly calm part of him is detestable.

At that point, his phone buzzed with a new call.

The incoming call screen read: “Awakusu-kai Shiki.”

Izaya thought it over, then powered down his phone and muttered to himself.

“Out of respect to your fellow passengers, please do not engage in phone calls while on the train…”

Near Kawagoe Highway, apartment building, Shinra and Celty’s place

“…No answer.”

Shiki shut his phone.

“Were you calling someone in your group?”

“No, Doctor, your friend. The one who isn’t Shizuo,” Shiki murmured coolly.

Shinra shrugged and protested, “You make it sound like I only have two friends to choose from.”

“There’s more?”

“No,” he admitted.

But Shiki was already lost in thought.

I figured that Izaya would know something about this…

Something’s wrong. If it wasn’t Shizuo Heiwajima who hit our guys…then who was it?

As a matter of fact, Shiki himself was starting to doubt the assumption that Shizuo Heiwajima was their culprit. Part of that was what Shinra had said earlier, but more importantly, Shizuo had no motive.

But what reason would there be to kill men of their stature with bare hands?

…Was it the serial killer Hollywood? he wondered, recalling the freak they’d been chasing a while back.

Hollywood’s true identity is Ruri Hijiribe. It’s hard to believe because I didn’t see it myself, but if the other guys can be trusted, she’s got some kind of superhuman strength. And Ruri Hijiribe is in a relationship with Yuuhei Hanejima, Shizuo’s little brother…

So there’s a connection, but it’s a very unnatural one. First of all, why would Ruri Hijiribe kill the Awakusu-kai now, of all times, especially when they were no longer after her? If it was meant to be a warning, wouldn’t she allow herself to be seen for the message to be clear?

…Let’s ask a different question: Who would stand to gain if our guys…no, if Director Mikiya’s guys got killed?

It was an occupational hazard that Mikiya, the waka-gashira and future head of the Awakusu-kai, had many enemies.

If they looked at this aggression as being against the Awakusu-kai as a whole, rather than a pointed move against Mikiya’s agents, the number of potential suspects would skyrocket.

But if this was a direct play against Mikiya himself, a number of those close by might rise to the top of the list.

I don’t want to think about that.

Now that Mikiya, the company president’s son, was set to inherit the lead, there would naturally be some other senior members who did not think highly of this favoritism.

Aozaki chief among them. Akabayashi…might seem to have little interest in leading at first glance, but…

The officers Aozaki and Akabayashi were very different men, but they were both famed and feared battlers who’d been known for years as the “Blue Ogre and Red Ogre of Awakusu,” respectively. Their presence or absence would have a significant effect on the sheer muscle power of the organization.

Aozaki indeed had his doubts about the worthiness of Mikiya to lead the group in the future, especially when compared to his own prowess. In deference to Dougen Awakusu, their boss, he followed Mikiya’s orders, but they often clashed over this and that.

Akabayashi, unlike the straightforward and easy-to-read Aozaki, was an aloof man whose motivations were often inscrutable. His flashy-patterned suits and bizarre canes were meant to give him the appearance of a clown and helped him hide his true intentions.

Just the fact that he was difficult to predict made him a person to be wary of. But even if his motives were unknown, his skill was a known quantity and only improved by his ability to hide weakness.

Shiki considered other members of the organization, but none of them had enough reason to be considered a lock for suspicion. If anything, in the current situation, everyone was a valid suspect, even him.

…But why now? When reconciliation between the Medei-gumi and Asuki-gumi is close at hand…

…Unless that’s the entire point.

The Medei-gumi, the Awakusu-kai’s parent syndicate, was in the midst of a reconciliation with their longtime rivals in the Asuki-gumi, leading to an eventual partnership and integration.

The details of that integration were being worked on now, which made it a particularly delicate time to have any weakness exposed. Or put another way, this was exactly the time that each side would be attempting to seize upon the other’s weakness. Of course, if such machinations went too far, the entire reconciliation could be dashed on the rocks.

…If it got out that three of our men were killed by Shizuo Heiwajima, a mere civilian…that would bring shame upon the Awakusu-kai, if not the Medei-gumi as a whole.

That was why Shiki had the bodies disposed of quickly and discreetly, without informing the police. If the cops found out and the story made its way to the media, things would turn into a circus.

Plus, the lurid fact that three men were killed by bare hands, not guns or blades, would drive the media into a frenzy of fascination. If that happened, all their dignity would be lost.

A plot by the Asuki-gumi to screw over the Medei-gumi…? We can’t rule that possibility out.

With the resources the Asuki-gumi has, they could easily hire an outside expert in bare-handed combat. Which leaves the problem of Shizuo.

From what he knew, several of Aozaki’s men had suffered at Shizuo’s hands as youngsters. That was a past they would be dying to erase. In fact, Aozaki had requested the chance for his team to hunt down Shizuo.

…If Aozaki happened to be pulling strings, then after framing Shizuo as his suspect, it behooves him to eliminate that suspect as soon as possible…

No. Not good to make so many assumptions.

The moment that he reached down to pick up his third cup of coffee and sharpen his thoughts, the door to Shinra’s apartment flew open.

“…”

He turned warily toward the entrance and saw Celty there with Akane in tow.

“Oh, Celty! Welcome back! I’m so glad you’re all right!” Shinra exclaimed theatrically, hugged Celty, and rubbed Akane’s head. “And you’re safe, too, Akane. That’s good—you didn’t get hurt anywhere?”

“…I’m fine. Thank you, Dr. Kishitani,” Akane said with a grin. Unlike her prior fright, this was a truly childlike expression of total relief.

But Akane’s smile drove shock into Celty’s core.

What?! How did she get so close with Shinra?!

“Ah, I see. That’s good. Hey, do you want me to make you some hot cocoa?”

Celty was stunned by this utterly alien version of Shinra. There was no sarcasm to him at all.

Is…is Shinra developing a lolicon side…?!

Owing to his typical weirdness, Shinra’s actions here were not attributed to being “kind to children,” but tragically misconstrued into a much darker light.

In other circumstances, Celty might have wailed, “Waaah! Shinra, you pedo! Was the only reason you liked a girl without a head because it just made her that much shorter?!” and run out the door…but given the serious nature of the moment, she didn’t reach that level of panic.

Shinra left for the kitchen to make cocoa, and Shiki emerged to take his place from the dining room.

“I’m glad to see you safe and well, Miss Akane.”

“!”

The little girl went stock-still when she saw him. She looked away, afraid he might scold her, but Shiki was simply happy to see her unharmed.

“We were worried when you ran away from home…but all that matters is that you’re not hurt. You weren’t in danger, were you?” he said, in the formal tones of a relative stranger, but he seemed very considerate of her feelings.

Wow…I thought Mr. Shiki was the cold and imperious type all along. I didn’t know he had a gentle side, Celty thought, impressed.

Akane mumbled, “I’m sorry,” in a barely audible voice.

Shiki just shook his head. “Save that for your parents first of all. I’ll call them right now.”

“…You aren’t mad?”

“If anyone can scold you, it’s your parents. I’ll give you plenty of complaints after that—right now, I just want to be happy you’re all right.”

He took out his phone, gave Akane a teasing smile, and offered some cruelly playful advice.

“I would get ready for a slap on the cheek if I were you, miss.”

At that moment, Awakusu-kai office, meeting room

With the emergency meeting over, the room was considerably quieter.

A man wearing a flashy suit held a cane in his right hand and fiddled with a cell phone in his left as he leaned back in his chair. He was checking his e-mail, and with each piece of information that came into his view, he leered happily.

“…Whaddaya doin’, Akabayashi?” asked Aozaki, who was just passing by the open door.

“Me? Checkin’ my mail.”

“Checkin’ your— Do you have any idea what’s going on right now?”

“Of course I do. And I also know that raisin’ a big fuss on my own won’t do shit. So instead, I’m tryin’ to get a handle on what’s happening out in the city.”

“Oh. I would have figured they were messages from women,” Aozaki mocked, but Akabayashi’s goofy grin stayed put.

“It’s real interesting stuff. Even an old fart like me can get all kinds of info from these ‘Dollars’ kids, just by registering for a mailing list.”

“…Dollars?”

“Just one of those color gangs around Ikebukuro in the last year. They don’t stand out much—I mean, for cryin’ out loud, the color they rep is ‘camouflage,’” Akabayashi sneered.

Aozaki snorted. “You must be busy, then. That Kuzuhara motorcycle cop showed up and Jan-Jaka-Jan’s yield dried up, so now you’re beep-boopin’ on that computer, looking for a replacement gang?”

“…‘Beep-booping on the computer’? What year did you fall out of, Aozaki?” he shot back, then lightened his tone again. “Listen, cell phones are a real handy tool to have around. For example…I just heard back from the guy I sent to help Shiki. Seems they had a little tussle with some motorcycle gang going after Miss Akane.”

“…What?” Aozaki went pale. “Disrespected by a buncha biker-gang punks…? Did Yodogiri hire those chumps to put up a fight?”

“From what I understand, when they learned we were Awakusu-kai, they ran off. Can’t catch motorcycles on foot, and Akane’s safe now, so no big deal.” Akabayashi grinned happily. He fiddled with his phone again. “Seems like the biker gang’s from Saitama…and they’re beefin’ with the Dollars.”

The smile plastered across his face deepened, twisted.

“Is it really coincidence that Ikebukuro’s goin’ so wild all at once?”

“And if it ain’t…and someone’s actively tryin’ to make everything here go crazy all at once…then I’d say that’s our cue to stand up, Mr. Aozaki.”

Somewhere in the metropolitan area, Masaomi’s apartment

“Hey, Masaomi.”

The windows were open, bringing the fresh May breeze into the old apartment.

Inside, a cheery voice well-suited to the spring atmosphere bounced off the walls.

Masaomi turned away from the window to look down at Saki Mikajima where she was reading a book. “Huh? What is it?”

“Aren’t you going?”

“Going where?” He smiled back.

Beaming like the gentle morning sun, Saki shook Masaomi to his core. “To your friend.”

“…”

“I didn’t mean to overhear your call with Izaya, but you were shouting. I couldn’t help but absorb the information. Sorry,” she said in an otherworldly voice. Masaomi’s mouth hung open silently for several seconds.

He wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

Masaomi turned back to the window and stared out for a moment, trying to buy time to calm himself down. He slowly turned back, composing his thoughts—and her face was right there.

Close enough that their noses could touch.

The sight of Saki’s smile at such inescapable proximity completely banished all the thoughts from his mind.

“Ah…”

He opened his mouth to say something, anything—when Saki turned away from him, then leaned against his back.

“Wh-what’s that for?”

The wind brushed her hair, tickling it over Masaomi’s mouth and wafting the scent of shampoo into his face and mind.

“Are you still scared?”

“…Yeah,” he admitted, unable to push her away.

At a distance, the image might be one of a happy couple sharing a sweet moment, but something about Masaomi’s expression and actions was stiff.

“What are you afraid of?”

“…”

“You don’t want to go back and find out that this friend is sick of you, isn’t that right?”

“That’s not all of it…but I guess that’s basically what it comes down to,” he mumbled, looking up at the ceiling.

Saki closed her eyes. “It’ll be fine. I’m sure they don’t suddenly hate you, Masaomi.”

“…How can you be so sure? You don’t even know Mikado or Anri.”

Saki didn’t flinch in the least at the mention of the feminine name Anri. She spoke like she was soothing a child. “I don’t know them, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Very optimistic of you.”

“I don’t know your friends, Masaomi, but I know you. And if you chose them, then I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“You’re exactly the kind of person who falls for scams, Saki,” he bemoaned, but the smile never left her face.

“Plus, I don’t like seeing you look so lonely.”

“…I’m not lonely. I’ve got you,” he said in all honesty.

But Saki promptly cast doubt on it. “I’m not so sure.”

“Oh, come on.”

“After all, I’m your lover, but I can’t be your friend, can I?”

“…”

He fell silent. She reached up and grasped his hand resting on her shoulder, then followed up. “But if it just so happens that your friends don’t like you anymore and you’re feeling depressed…I’ll be here to embrace you. That’s my job as your girlfriend.”

“Saki…”

“Don’t ever forget that you have a place to come home to, right here. But I’m not the one who can save your friends—you are.”

She turned herself around and squeezed Masaomi with a playful smile.

“…That’s right. Thanks, Saki.”

He looked at her smile and thought about it. Perhaps her innocent playfulness was not a sign of serene wisdom, but something broken within her.

He got the sense that he himself was broken somehow, too. The cause lay within him.

He fell from a great height and broke. That was it.

But just before he fell, someone else most certainly pushed him on the back.

Or more accurately, pushed him upward as he climbed up to that height, then suddenly let go as soon as the footing became unstable.

Now that same man was pushing his friend.

Masaomi looked at the floor, then made up his mind.

I’m gonna save Mikado.

That it took Saki’s words and a strong resolve to make such a simple decision was perhaps a sign of his brokenness.

He smiled back kindly at Saki—and after a minimum of preparation left the apartment.

To save the friend who turned his back on the ordinary and continually fled toward the center of chaos, Masaomi set off running.

Into the midst of that very chaos.

Somewhere in Ikebukuro

While Masaomi willingly makes his way toward the fray…

We move to a side street, drastically quieter than the station-facing thoroughfare it spun away from.

Even in the midst of a crowded holiday, there are alleys in any city that remain lonely and foreboding, but there was a strange density to the crowd found in this otherwise unremarkable Ikebukuro alley.

When passersby glanced down the alley and noticed the gathering, they just as quickly looked back and continued on their way, realizing that the men belonged to some kind of street gang.

If this was at the station, the shopping district, or any number of famous locations, it would be reported at once. But they were in an out-of-the-way spot, and it was just a big gathering of gangsters, so people chose the simple path of action instead: Just stay away.

Of course, if they could see past the wall of people at what was happening beyond, some might risk personal danger to inform the police—and it was precisely to prevent this outcome that they were forming such a wall.

Inside the alley on the other side of that wall, a girl said nervously, “Um…wh-who are you people…?”

Next to Rio Kamichika were several girls her age, huddled together in fear.

It was the very group of girls who had been walking around Ikebukuro after they ran across Anri.

After leaving their restaurant, they had walked away from the shopping area to find someplace quiet like a park to relax in. Along the way, one of the girls checked her phone and came to a halt.

“…What’s this?”

“Hmm? What’s wrong?”

“H-hey, I just got a bunch of messages from this mailing list called ‘the Dollars’…and isn’t this…us at the end?”

She held out her phone to show off a picture of the interior of the restaurant where they had just been eating—and there they were, right in the photo.

“And it says here that they’re looking for you, Non… Do you know what this is about…?” asked the girl with the phone. Just then, it buzzed again with a new e-mail. She opened it and looked at the text.

“Found the girl. We’re about to have a party together.”

The attached image was of the sidewalk they had walked down just minutes before—and their backs, directly in view.

They felt their skin crawl and started looking around. Almost immediately they noticed a pack of men walking toward them. And coming from the other direction, another group of men with a similar air to them.

“L-let’s get out of here,” one of the girls said, and on cue, Rio and her friends rushed toward a nearby alley. Ultimately, this only trapped them in an even more abandoned place.

One of the gangsters surrounding the girls cackled, “Who are we? What? You really have to ask? We’re the bad guys.”

The men were blocking both ends of the alley, leaving no escape.

“I-if we scream, the cops will be here right away…,” one of the girls threatened, but the men just laughed.

“Oh, but the fights happening all over are keeping the cops busy, I’m afraid. More importantly, listen up—Non, right?” the same guy teased. He then jutted his chin out in a threatening manner and snarled, “It’s all thanks to your dumb-ass boyfriend flexing his muscle all over the place that the cops are occupied. Get it?”

“…Rocchi?” the girl said. It was an odd name.

But Rio and the others recognized it at once. That was the nickname Non often used to refer to her boyfriend. The gangsters wouldn’t know that, but it was clear from context that Rocchi was the boss of Toramaru in question.

They cackled and leered, slowly closing the circle around the girls.

“Rocchi, Micchi—it doesn’t matter, bitchies!”

“Okay, okay, okay, easy, easy, easy, there, there, there. All you have to do is come with these nice gentlemen. Yeah? Yeah? Yeah?”

Their tone was light, but there was a dangerous gleam in their eyes. At this rate, it seemed likely that all the girls, not just Non, would be loaded into a car.

Non glared angrily back at the men and said in a low voice, “Fine…I’ll go along with you, as long as you let them go—you don’t need them, do you?”

“N-Non…you can’t do this!” Rio protested, but one of the men brusquely cut her off.

“Nope, nope, nope. We’re not doin’ that. No can do. If we let the others go, they’ll tell the cops. And then they’ll be right on top of us. Nopesy-daisy.”

A different man clamped a hand over one of the girls’ mouths.

“Aa—”

He was preventing her from screaming. A knife held to her throat made the threat clear.

“See that? See, see? Raise a fuss, and I’d guess that your friend here’s gonna get slit.”

The sight of a glinting silver blade against pale flesh immediately silenced Rio and her friends.

Somehow there was a black van parked at the mouth of the alley now with the sliding door open. “Can you fit five in there?”

The frightened girls were grabbed by their arms and mouths, a mass kidnapping at the hands of over a dozen men right in the middle of the back alley.

“Sure, as long as we stack ’em up.” “I wanna get stacked in that, too!”

“What are you, a monkey?” “I wanna be a part of this exciting live teen girl performance!”

“Damn, you’re such a creep!” “Hey, you think it’s true that the guy who was with Kadota is Toramaru’s boss?”

“Yep, for sure. I’ve seen him before.”

It was a chat.

The way they were talking as they went about their business was like watercooler talk.

This matter-of-factness drove home the reality of the situation to the girls and thus began plunging them into despair…

“W-wait a second!”

The scene was interrupted by the sound of a young boy’s voice, completely out of place.

Everyone in the alley spun around to see, behind the gangsters, a boy glaring at them, his shoulders heaving.

“Wait…Ryuugamine?”

Rio recognized him as her classmate. Not a close one, but a male student who occupied the same distance from her as Anri did.

He responded by summoning all his courage to yell, “Wh-what are you doing to them?!”

The gangsters glanced at one another, brows furrowed, then made shooing gestures at him. One of them growled, “This ain’t got nothin’ to do with you, kid.”

“Y-yes, it does.”

“Huh?”

“I—I’m one of the Dollars, too. I saw the message…and rushed right here!”

That was a statement that cost Mikado considerable courage.

But either because he was still in a confused state or because he was afraid of having any of the Dollars arrested, he had not reported anything about the incident to the police.

He was there solely as a Dollar.

“B-but…you shouldn’t…be taking girls…,” he stammered. One of the gangsters laughed and approached.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up, kid,” he said and kicked at Mikado’s solar plexus.

It wasn’t an impressive kick, just a lazy, amateurish swipe.

Shizuo Heiwajima would have failed to notice it, then seen the footprint on his stomach and furiously punched his foe up to a second-story height.

Izaya Orihara would already have his knife pointed at the sole of the man’s shoe.

Masaomi Kida would simply dodge it and counterattack.

Celty would already have him wrapped up immobile in her shadow.

But in physical terms, Mikado was just your average—below average, actually—teenage student.

In these circumstances, he was tragically “just a boy.”

“Ugh…”

Mikado fell to the ground, groaning. It felt like there was a large ball of heavy lead in the pit of his stomach.

Before the pain arrived, bitterness flooded into his brain, screaming orders not to move to the rest of his body, but all his nerves were unable to stand the agony and screeched, Roll around! in their tiny, needling voices.

“Ah…gakh…”

“If you’re Dollars, then you should know there’s no rule that says the Dollars can’t take girls hostage,” the man spat. They were older men looking down on a boy, informing him of how the Dollars worked from a superior position.

Naturally, they had no idea that Mikado was really the founder of those very Dollars. But if they heard that and actually believed it, would their attitude really change?

Mikado tried to consider the possibility, but even through the blinding pain he understood that the answer was no.

Even if he had said that exact same thing as the founder of the Dollars, they would not react any differently. That was how the Dollars worked.

“In fact, there are no rules governing us at all. Specially not anything that says we have to listen to a little kid like you,” the man said, putting his foot on the kneeling boy’s shoulder.

As he crumpled to the asphalt, Mikado thought, Yes, of course. He’s absolutely right.

There were no rules.

No one could order another member to do anything against his will.

I built it to be that way.

Mikado gritted his teeth at the irony of it. Meanwhile, the gangsters talked among themselves.

“Man, there really are all kinds in the Dollars. If there are kids like this, maybe someone else saw the message, pussied out, and reported us already?”

“Let’s get back to Raira Field Two already. I don’t wanna get caught here, so let’s just kick Toramaru’s asses, bring the chicks into someone’s house, and call it a day.”

Mikado’s teeth grinding intensified.

No.

This is…wrong.

They’re all…wrong.

This…

This isn’t the Dollars I wanted to make.

He wanted to disavow every last bit of the reality unfolding here.

Mikado got to his feet, desperately stifling his urge to vomit, and yelled at the men ignoring him and heading to their van.

“Stop it…!”

“…What?”

The man who appeared to be the central figure of the thugs—the Dollars—on the scene raised an eyebrow and sneered, “What? I didn’t hear that.”

It was a taunt, but one with pressure behind it.

Mikado didn’t back down. He summoned the voice from deep in his gut.

“The Dollars don’t do…cheap, cowardly crap…like taking girls hostage!”

“…Shuddup!”

The gangster punched Mikado in the face. He wasn’t going to think over the implication of a boy he saw as inferior calling him a cheap coward.

“We don’t wanna get reported on, so three of you stay behind and pound this kid to sand.”

“Hey, wait, we wanna have fun with the girls.”

“You’ll get your chance! Come on, how long will it take you to pulverize one stupid kid?!”

Mikado tasted iron inside his mouth as he lay on the ground. He’d probably cut the inside of his mouth somewhere. Maybe even broken a tooth.

But none of that mattered to him at this moment.

The man who just hit him wasn’t paying any attention to him at all.

That was more humiliating and agonizing than the pain.

Perhaps even more so than the fact that he failed to save the girls…

By the time he recovered from the pain, the van was long gone, with only three of the men remaining behind.

“Hey, get up, kid.”

“Urgh…”

Mikado wanted to at least land one punch back, but he’d never thrown one in his life. It was all he could do to move the joints past his shoulder.

His attempt, which was possibly weaker than that of an experienced grade-schooler, feebly hit air. Mikado tumbled off his feet amid mocking laughter. He didn’t even know how he’d wound up on the ground again.

A merciless kick hit him in the side while he lay facedown. They stomped on his arms and legs, and while he didn’t suffer any broken bones, he could feel the sensation of muscle fiber and sinew fraying.

“Aah…aaaaaah!” he screamed.

One of his torturers laughed and said, “Hey, kid. You remember me?”

“…Hrg…uh…wha—?”

Through vision blurred with pain, Mikado tried to focus on the man overhead, but his skull was pressed down by a thick-soled shoe.

“It was over a year ago… You were with that guy who busted my ex’s cell phone, right? I remember you, because I never saw a kid in high school with such a baby…face!” he finished, putting his weight forward to press Mikado’s face against the asphalt. Mikado’s nose twisted, and blood began rushing out of his nostrils.

“That Black Rider came along and interrupted what was going on… Are you lil’ buddy pals with the Black Rider, too? Yeah, right.”

Wait, is he…?

He didn’t recognize the man, but his mind was working hard through the throbbing pain. But what the man said next brought it back. It was such a minor thing, he could have completely forgotten all about it.

“I only found this out recently once I joined the Dollars. It’s Izaya Orihara, right? The guy who busted my phone. I guess he’s famous?”

Ah.

It was just after Mikado first came to Ikebukuro—when he saw Anri being bullied and saved her. Izaya came along and stomped on one of the bullies’ phones.

A few days later, a guy claiming to be that girl’s boyfriend was waiting outside the school gate—and Celty knocked him out in one blow.

Something krickked inside of Mikado.

It wasn’t because he was kicked. But somehow, his ears picked up the sound of his own backbone creaking.

“Let me guess: Did you think because you knew someone famous, that made you a good fighter? Or did you think that being Dollars with us made you our equals? Huh?”

The man stomped on Mikado’s back, but he couldn’t even feel the pain anymore.

Something was surpassing all that pain, some kind of emotion he’d never even felt before.

He remembered.

Mikado completely remembered the man before his eyes.

“Little chumps like you being in the Dollars is nothing but a pain in the…ass!”

The man kicked Mikado’s head—right as he muttered something in his mind.

A statement that Mikado would never ordinarily make.

Oh, no kidding…

He’s…

He’s…that worthless idiot.

That was the first clear change to come to the boy named Mikado Ryuugamine.

But as it happened entirely in his head, no one noticed the change.

He didn’t get any further than that thought. The blow to the head knocked him completely unconscious.

Somewhere in Ikebukuro

“Got the girl! Now we just beat down Toramaru’s boss, and the Dollars will rule Ikebukuro!”

The man fumed with pent-up fury as he read the flippant e-mail.

He reached out to a nearby street sign and clenched it, his arm rippling under the bartender shirt.

“…Son of a bitch.”

After a silence of just a few seconds, he began to walk.

His steps were slow and deliberate, and he left a handprint dent in the pole of the sign behind him.

Shizuo Heiwajima was heading for a very specific destination, smoldering with rage.

Near Kawagoe Highway, apartment building

“Mikiya will be arriving soon downstairs. Let’s go,” Shiki urged Akane, as Celty watched.

Three of his men were alert on standby, circling Akane close enough to keep her safe and far enough away to keep her from panicking.

“…Do I…have to go back home…?”

“Miss…”

“I mean, I’ll say sorry to Dad and Mom. I’ll apologize…but…”

“Miss Akane, I understand that you don’t think highly of our work. But the first thing you should do is have a proper talk with your parents. They don’t want to involve you in our world under any circumstances. Please believe that.”

Celty watched Shiki in wonder as he talked to the girl.

Hmm. He’s like a different person altogether. The way he speaks and the tone of voice is the same, but somehow his attitude is different. If only he could be that gentle and mild all the time.

But in truth, Celty was more delighted that the girl was safe after all.

I’m glad we’ll be able to send her back to her parents before the day is over, she thought, remembering the mystery attacker who went after her and Anri the previous day. Based on the timing, I can’t imagine that they have nothing to do with the request to protect Akane. But at least at the Awakusu-kai stronghold, those weirdos will think twice about attacking, assuming they were a threat to the girl.

If it were night already, they might use that powerful gun to blow up the vehicle in transit, but that would be a major stretch in the daylight. It’d be one thing if it was a full-blown war between yakuza syndicates, but the goal of the enemy had to be taking Akane Awakusu hostage. Drawing attention and getting the police involved would only make that harder.

But we can’t rest easy. We still don’t know why Anri was attacked… I suppose I should follow behind the car in secret once it leaves.

As Celty was silently swearing to continue overseeing Akane’s safety, the girl in question was still in conversation with Shiki.

“At any rate, stay at home for a while, miss.”

“…Did something happen?” she asked politely, but Shiki hesitated to answer.

Good grief, she really is sharp for her age.

“Even if something did, it’s our job to ensure that it doesn’t affect you. Please don’t worry.”

“…Are Dad and Grandpa okay?”

“?”

“Did Big Brother Shizuo do anything to them?”

Time in the room stopped flowing.

Shinra had told them it was Shizuo Heiwajima who brought the girl here. But as for what happened before then—the details of how she came across Shizuo in the first place—all Shinra said was, “I only heard sickbed rambling, so you may have better luck asking Akane yourself once things calm down.” That had been Shiki’s plan, until this moment.

How? She couldn’t possibly know about this struggle between Shizuo and the Awakusu-kai. Unless he was feeding her nonsense when they were together?

Shiki’s face had gone into a hard scowl for just a few seconds, and Akane didn’t miss it. She asked tremulously, “D-did…did he really do something to them?!”

“No, they’re fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about,” Shiki reassured her with a smile, but Akane wasn’t listening. She started trembling and mumbling to herself.

“I knew it…I should have killed him when I had the chance…”

…?

What…did she just say?

It was mumbled and hard to hear, but he could have sworn she just said something about “killing when she had the chance.”

Shiki instantly felt an odd, nagging feeling.

Something had changed in Akane since she ran away from home.

Yes, she had always been a bit precocious for her age. He understood that she had learned about the family business before and been stunned by the truth.

But the way she was acting now was strange.

Shiki considered this change, trying to recall others who had exhibited similar behaviors.

Like those women on the run from loan sharks, at the end of their rope and about to fall apart…

He abruptly stopped that train of thought. He wanted to tell himself this wasn’t true, but he couldn’t afford to be totally optimistic.

“Miss, what did you just…?” he started to ask, deciding that ascertaining the truth was vital now—but just then, with the worst possible timing, one of his men approached.

“The director’s car is here.”

“Got it. We’ll go down in a second,” Shiki commanded. He stashed his doubts away for the moment and started to escort Akane down to the street.

“Thank you for your help. I’ll get in contact very soon about what comes next. We’d still like to hear a detailed account of what happened last night, Celty,” Shiki said, bowing deeply. Akane smiled and waved at Shinra.

After the two left, Celty sat down on the sofa.

“What in the world is going on? What’s this about Shizuo?”

“Hmm? Is something the matter?” asked Shinra, coming forward with coffee in hand. He glanced at Celty’s PDA.

“Akane said something about Shizuo, and then Shiki went stock-still,” she wrote, hoping to get some minimum of information before she left to follow the car.

Shinra spread his hands to indicate that he was at a loss. “Oh…I wish I knew the answer to that, too. Seems like the Awakusu are after him,” he said with a wry smile.

But Celty, who had known him for years, recognized that it was a flat smile that did not reach his eyes. That was enough to tell her the situation was tense.

“Seems like this is spinning into something much bigger.”

Celty hadn’t envisioned it growing to envelop Anri and Mikado and realized that she regretted getting involved with this job. But now that she had met Akane, she couldn’t very well just abandon the helpless girl.

Plus, the fact that Akane was here, even if just for the night…might be enough for those mystery people to set their sights on us here.

The odds were low, but without knowing the identity of her assailants, she couldn’t afford to relax.

Celty proceeded around the apartment, checking on the status of their defense measures. Meanwhile, Shinra wondered aloud lazily, “Anyway, I think the Awakusu-kai are chasing him around over a mistake… The question is why Izaya would cause them to make that mistake…”

“What? Izaya’s involved with this?”

“So I understand, if Akane is to be believed…and as long as someone else isn’t assuming Izaya’s identity.”

This time he smiled properly. Celty smiled back with her shoulders and typed out, “I don’t think anyone could fake being Izaya other than him.”

“Good point.” Shinra chuckled.

Okay, time to go.

Celty got up, sensing that the car would be leaving right about then.

An enormous sound outside the building froze her in the act of standing up.

—?!

What? What?!

She looked around Shinra on instinct, thinking it must be a gas explosion.

Instantly, he was holding her, enveloping her body.

Wh-what are you doing, Shinra?!

“Watch out, Celty! Get down! It’s a terrorist attack! I saw something flash down below through the window!”

“Calm down! I’m fine—you get under the table!”

Was getting under the table the right emergency response after an explosion? She wasn’t sure, but there was no time to think it over. And yet, Celty found herself thinking about something even less necessary at that moment.

Shinra…

Were you trying to protect me?

She felt her chest growing hot, despite the lack of any blood flowing through it, and headed to check out what happened outside, when…

Through the window, Celty’s odd sense of “sight” noticed the members of the Awakusu-kai, hunched over on the street covering their eyes and ears, and a motorcycle racing away from the scene.

And under the arm of the rider atop the large bike, the little body of Akane.

Celty leaped through the open window frame and down onto the veranda.

A few minutes earlier, near Kawagoe Highway

“Hey, Aoba, how long we gonna keep walking?”

“Yeah, we don’t wanna get surrounded here again.”

Aoba headed down a narrow alley, following the black thread, while the few other boys behind him complained. They clearly had no interest in this strange thread extending from the bike in the abandoned factory.

Aoba grinned and replied, “C’mon, stop worrying. Just think about it. It’s already crazy that this thread is running all across town, right? And no matter what we tried, we can’t cut it. I thought it was stretching out like rubber, but no matter how far it stretches, it never gets thinner. It feels weird, like you’re stretching and contracting smoke.”

“Biiiig deal.”

“…It could be the discovery of the century. But whatever. Have you heard anything from Gin yet?”

“He sent a text. Says he’s watching from the corner of the field, but the Toramaru boss is still in the middle of the fight.”

“Man, that’s a long fight. But from what I hear about Kadota, he’s the all-around type who can handle both short bouts and endurance battles. At this rate, the other guys will probably catch those girls first…”

Aoba’s analysis was cut short by a sudden blast from the nearby street.

“?!”

The people walking nearby paused, and the cars on the street hit the brakes, filling the area with the piercing sound of screams and tires squealing.

“What was that?!”

Aoba ran to the corner of the big street where it intersected with Kawagoe Highway and carefully leaned around the building to see what had happened.

Up ahead, at the side of the street, was a luxury vehicle. The all-black auto was instantly recognizable as the kind typically used by criminal organizations.

“…Yakuza?” the boys wondered and noticed that a number of men were crouched down around the car.

A visual scan turned up no obvious movement—but there was the ostentatious sound of a raucous motorcycle engine.

Just when the bike raced up to meet the black automobile, it simply picked up a girl from the chaotic scene, light as you please.

The large rider never lost speed as he raced away from the spot—and slipped down another side street separate from the one Aoba was peering out of.

“What the hell was that…?”

Suddenly, he noticed that the black thread left the alley and proceeded in the direction of the car in question.

They stepped around the corner and onto the sidewalk lining the big street to get a better look at what had actually happened, when they noticed something new.

Along the apartment building right next to the black car, about four or five stories up, was an odd black shape.

“The Black Rider!”

It only took an instant, but Aoba recognized it.

A figure in a black riding suit, leaping over the apartment veranda, plunging down to the ground. And growing out of that figure’s arm was something like a black rope, attached to the railing it had just jumped over. It stretched like rubber and extended downward, lowering the rider slowly to the ground.

Faced with this impossible otherworldly sight, Aoba’s reaction was sparkling eyes and a mumbled “Found you…”

But unlike Mikado’s sparkling reaction when he first saw Celty for himself, this one was the cold, cruel glimmer of a snake with prey in sight.

One minute earlier, near Kawagoe Highway, outside Shinra’s apartment

“…Dad…”

“Akane!”

For the first time in several days, father and daughter met.

She peered timidly out from behind Shiki as the intimidating man approached.

Her body was trembling in preparation of a smack for her misbehavior, but instead, her father’s thick arms enfolded her. Mikiya Awakusu knelt and hugged his daughter to stop her quavering.

He was right in sight of his bodyguards and Shiki, but Mikiya chose to play the role of father to his daughter at this moment.

“I understand you hate Dad and Grandpa’s business. That’s all right. But don’t make your mother worry.”

She hesitated at first, then clutched her father’s sleeve and mumbled, “…rry…I’m sorry…! I’m glad you’re safe, too, Dad…”

It occurred to Shiki at this point that he had probably misheard whatever she said minutes ago. But…

…For having run away from home, she sure accepted him quickly…

Something’s odd here.

…“I’m glad you’re safe”…?

Why would she be worried for Mikiya’s sake?

Just at the moment that doubt and suspicion began to bloom up again—

He caught sight of a small object flying toward them from the street.

—?

 ?!

When Shiki finally recognized it, he covered his face and heart with his arms and tried to leap with all he could out of the way.

But it was too late. Before his brain could even send the signals through his nerves, the thing flashed—the air erupted with noise and light, and everyone in the vicinity lost their vision and hearing momentarily.

Explosion.

The world was suddenly shrouded in the darkness of light.

The only Awakusu-kai members on the scene who instantly understood what happened were Shiki and Mikiya.

It was a flashbang.

A special hand grenade that unleashed a powerful, dazzling light that briefly stunned the senses of any humans nearby. It was most famous as a tool used by the police and Special Forces when busting in on hostage takers.

Mikiya’s hearing was completely ruined, but he could still see just a little bit. This was thanks to the relative weakness of the grenade and the fact that he had his back to it, clutching his daughter.

Realizing it was an attack, he sheltered his daughter’s body and glanced around—but his ringing ears did not catch the sound of the approaching motorcycle engine.

A man descended from the bike. He was large, wearing a full helmet, and about a head taller than Mikiya; that was all he could discern through the haze of his vision.

The man grabbed Akane’s arm and tried to pull her away.

“Son of a—!”

He leaped up to his feet, but the rider grabbed him by the collar with one hand and easily lifted him off the ground.

“…!”

The man pried Akane away from Mikiya and tossed him back onto the black car.

“Gahk!”

His back slammed hard against the side of the car, and the air shot from his lungs so fast, he felt like they’d exploded. Still, he managed to stand again and face the attacker…

But the man was already back on his bike with Akane in tow, and he rode off unharassed by any of the other mobsters, who were still struggling to recover.

One other man saw what had happened from close range.

Shiki had the instinct to cover his face with his arm. Even then, the light that reached the corners of his eyes left them grayed out. This was largely the effect of good luck, as the flashbang went off extremely quickly after being tossed.

With his ears ringing from the blast, he saw his boss thrown right before his eyes. He jumped into action the instant he recovered, but the bike was already riding away.

That monstrous strength…

All he could envision was the sight of his murdered subordinates from this morning.

But that wasn’t Shizuo. He’s not that tall.

The man’s frame was noticeably larger than Shizuo’s. Of course, he could have been wearing a muscle suit and elevator shoes, but Shiki was already losing faith that their culprit was Shizuo.

But this wasn’t the time for poring over possibilities.

As his ears gradually cleared up, Shiki took action—and dragged the stunned Mikiya into the bulletproof vehicle, where he would be relatively safe.

And then he saw.

Through recovering ears, he just barely heard.

Mikiya screaming something at the retreating motorcycle.

And the words were…

Somewhere in Ikebukuro

“…do.”

“…ado! Mikado!”

A familiar voice cut through his woozy wits.

Who is that? Umm…that’s Sonohara, his dazed mind was just able to deduce.

“Mikado! Are you all right? Hang in there!”

His mind slowly sharpened into focus, and he recognized something strange about the voice.

Oh, that’s different. I’ve never heard Sonohara so panicked like this. What happened?

As he steadily awakened, he felt increasingly strange about himself as well.

Huh? My body hurts… Why?

What was I doing just now? Oh…right.

I got punched. And then…and then…

Sonohara was… Wait, why is she here?

Mikado’s mind finally reached the state of awareness, and he began to take the current situation into account. His eyes flew open.

But his vision was too blurry to reveal much. He seemed to be lying faceup on the ground, and he could vaguely see Anri’s face looming over him.

“Hi…Sonohara…”

“Mikado! Thank goodness…!”

It was too blurry to make out her expression, but Anri’s voice was full of relief. He felt apologetic, grateful—and, remembering what had just happened to him, more than a little pathetic.

Oh, right. I got my ass kicked.

You know, I don’t think I’ve heard Sonohara emote like that since Masaomi at that factory building.

That’s good. At least I know she was as worried for me as she was for him.

His head was still fuzzy, and his normal priorities seemed to be having trouble forming their proper order.

Oh yeah, that reminds me… Where did those guys go?

If they were still nearby, Anri was in danger.

Mikado did his best to force his pained body into a sitting position. But as he did, a shadow writhed in his blurry sight.

“Y-you…monster!”

Huh?

The voice belonged to one of those thugs. He was swinging his arm down, hurtling a silver thing toward Anri.

Watch out!

Instinctively, Mikado tried to push Anri to the side.

But just before he made contact, a sharp metallic sound echoed off the alley walls.

Anri’s upper half twisted, and something extended from the end of her arm—yes, shining and silver.

A metal pipe…? No…

A katana?

The next instant, the silver shaft struck him on the side of the head, and the large man slumped to the ground like a masterless puppet.

Mikado recalled a scene from several months past.

When he rushed in to save Masaomi, surrounded by the Yellow Scarves—and saw Anri in the factory, holding a katana.

There’s a Sonohara I don’t know in there.

Right as the silver object disappeared, seemingly sucking into Anri’s arm, Mikado’s vision finally cleared up in full.

“Um…are you all right…?”

“Y-yeah,” he mumbled.

He slowly rolled upward and saw three men knocked out on the pavement, including the one from just now.

“What is…?”

“…”

She just looked at the ground in silence.

Clearly something had just happened. But there was no way to tell exactly what that was.

None of the men were bleeding, but they all bore marks on their bodies that suggested they were struck with narrow metal pipes.

Then, there was Anri, who was staying quiet, but not out of any apparent lack of understanding.

Plus, there was what I just saw…

That did not seem to be a hallucination.

It was very curious, but seeing her look of discomfort, Mikado decided to shake his head and put her at ease.

“N-no, it’s okay. I won’t ask.” He smiled kindly, his face swollen.

“Th…thank you, Mikado…,” she mumbled, managing a tiny bit of a relieved smile, and touched his shoulder. “Are you all right? Do you need a medic, or…?”

“No, I’m fine. I can get to my feet,” he said and hastily stood up to reassure her.

That’s right. We swore to tell each other our secrets when Masaomi was back.

That shouldn’t have been such a simple statement to make.

After all, he had just seen a teen girl holding a katana-like thing, of which there was now no sign whatsoever.

The situation was already beyond common sense at that point—but Mikado wasn’t particularly bothered.

Any doubt he felt toward Anri was overshadowed by a much more powerful emotion.

I…I couldn’t do a thing.

I couldn’t do anything for them…and I needed Sonohara to save me…

It was my weakness…that might have put her directly in danger…

He was racked with guilt and shame but had no recourse for those feelings. All he could do was reassure her weakly, “I…I’m fine.”

“Then we should take you to a hospital or Dr. Kishitani’s…,” she suggested, but he just shook his head.

“I don’t feel any broken bones, so it won’t be necessary… More importantly…we’ve got to go help Kadota…at Raira Field Two…”

“Huh…?” She was taken aback at this idea.

He saw the doubt and worry in her face, then looked down at the ground and mumbled, “Sorry…but I’ve just got to go… We need to save those girls… They’re going to use one of them as a hostage in that fight…and I get the feeling they have no intention of just releasing her afterward.”

“Mikado…it sounds like we should tell the police…”

“…No. If we just run to the cops, who knows what those guys will do to the girls in revenge. Plus, getting the police involved is just going to make things worse for Kadota.”

“…”

His words were half-true, half-false. Anri could sense that.

She wasn’t entirely ignorant of his situation, either. She knew that there was some kind of ominous connection between him and the Dollars. It seemed like he was afraid of the police getting involved and putting pressure on the gang.

“…”

After a momentary silence, Anri sucked in a quick breath and said, “Then I’ll go.”

“You can’t…”

“…You’re not going to tell the police, are you? Then I’ll go. I want to save Kamichika, too, you know.” After a brief hesitation, she added, “And…I think I’ll be able to help you.”

There was determination in her statement.

Mikado sensed her intent immediately. The image of the girl with a katana flooded into his brain, drowning out everything else.

She was going to help him—even if it ended up exposing her own secret.

He didn’t know what that secret was, but he could tell that it was extremely important to her.

Mikado looked down, extreme indecision crossing his youthful features.

But realizing that Anri would probably follow along no matter what he said, he gave up and accepted her determination as equal to the way he selfishly insisted on rushing into danger.

“…All right. Let’s go.”

Anri rushed out of the alley, following the boy’s lead.

Immediately afterward, a woman in a riding suit emerged from the shadows. She muttered, “Raira Field Two,” and returned to where she had parked her motorcycle nearby.

“Boy and girl are stupid. Correct is immediate report to police structure. All else is their ego and selfish logic or perhaps hope.”

Vorona had witnessed Anri knock out the much larger young men with the back of her blade.

“Now I can eliminate bespectacled girl before law enforcement acts,” she muttered.

Through the wireless set in her helmet, she heard Slon say, “Do you read me, Vorona?”

“Affirmative.”

“I’ve got Akane Awakusu unharmed. She might be in a state of shock, but anyway, I’ve got her in the truck. I haven’t been followed.”

“Utter excellence. Analyze location of Raira Field Two and report to me. Then, move truck there,” she commanded briskly. But there was a pleasant smile playing across her lips.

“This is great ecstasy. We can achieve all of job today.”

“When job is over, then I can focus on Black Rider’s vanquishing to heart’s content. Fortuitous.”

Ikebukuro, Raira Academy Field Two, around back

Compared to the areas around the train station, the space was so lonely, it hardly seemed like Ikebukuro at all.

It was surrounded by trees and should have been a pleasant, peaceful place—if not for the smell of blood.

“Damn… How freakin’ tough are you, man?” muttered Kadota, blood streaming from the corner of his mouth, cheek puffy around his right eye. He sat down on the curb between the dirt and the field grass and rasped, “If you were at full health, it would be me sprawled out over there.”

A few yards in front of him lay Chikage Rokujou, spread-eagled on the ground.

There was fresh blood blotting the bandage wrapped around his head, and he seemed to be having trouble just breathing.

Chikage slowly replied, “I dunno… You’re pretty tough yourself. Besides, if I was gonna blame my injuries, I wouldn’t have started this fight in the first place… You weren’t holding back just because I was wounded, were you?”

“If you mean, did I hold back to avoid killing you, then yeah. I ain’t cut out for prison life,” Kadota spat sardonically.

Chikage chuckled, then slowly raised his left arm to examine his wristwatch. “Ahh… Was I knocked out for a bit just now?”

“Yeah. A bit. ’Bout to pass out myself.”

“Gotcha… Y’know, this is the first time I’ve ever lost twice in a row… Shit,” Chikage groaned, but there was a smile on his face for some reason.

“I don’t think you need to count getting knocked out by Shizuo.”

Kadota stood up and walked over to Chikage. He surveyed his opponent but did not look down on him. After some consideration, he suggested, “Look, I’m not sayin’ you have to listen to me because you lost, but could you pull your Toramaru guys outta here for today?”

“…”

“I’ll use my connections to try to track down the people who were messing around in Saitama and force them to make things right. Can you hang on until then?”

“…Do the Dollars usually sell each other out?” Chikage mocked.

But Kadota didn’t seem upset. He grinned impishly and noted, “The Dollars don’t have any rules. Not even rules against sellin’ out people you don’t like. Anyway…this is a personal thing, not a Dollars thing. I, Kyouhei Kadota, am going to help you because I don’t like those guys. So what’s the problem?”

“Man, you’re evil,” Chikage said. He chuckled on the ground.

Kadota grinned back. “The Dollars are a congregation of evil. What else would you expect?”

Soon they were both laughing out loud. The scene grew light with mirth.

“Knock it off with the sappy friendship bullshit, Kadotaaaaa!”

And then it was ruined by a coarse, crude bellow.

“?”

“Who’s that?”

The two men turned in the direction of the voice and saw a pack of about twenty young street toughs heading their way.

The one who appeared to be in charge spat on the grass and shouted, “What, you have one fight, and now you’re best friends? What is this, the shonen manga playbook? Has hanging around with that freak otaku Yumasaki ruined your brain, too?”

Kadota showed no sign of panic at the oncoming gang. He replied, “It happens a lot more than you’d think, outside of manga. And really, is that the best insult you have?”

Then, pity entered his eyes, and he murmured, “Oh, I get it. You don’t have any friends.”

“Wha—?!” the thug yelped, eyes wide.

Chikage managed to rise to a sitting position and added, “C’mon, don’t pick on the poor guy. With looks like that, he doesn’t have a girlfriend, either. It’s not fair to taunt the lonely.”

“…Fugoff! Gah!” screamed the goon, the bridge of his nose turning red.

But Kadota wasn’t even looking at him anymore. “Speak Japanese. This is Japan.”

The delinquents were furious at being completely ignored, but they kept their cool by remembering what their overriding priority was.

A derisive shout was directed at the badly injured Kadota. “You talk a lotta shit, boy! You think you can stand up to us in that condition?”

“…Who says I’m gonna fight you?”

“Shuddup! Listen, Kadota, I never liked you from the start! Actin’ like you’re some big shot in the Dollars, when you hardly do anything in the first place!”

“Huh?” Kadota asked. This accusation seemed to come out of nowhere. But that was what Chikage had said when he first made contact, too. Somehow things had gotten very troublesome without his knowledge, but he was unable to figure out why they considered him to have this position.

“The Dollars don’t even have a direct hierarchy of any kind. So we don’t like you actin’ like you’re some kind of exalted officer!”

“I don’t remember telling anyone I was an officer,” Kadota sighed, scratching his head. He took a step toward the newcomers.

They suddenly stopped, faltered half a step in caution. Kadota was well-known as an expert brawler. Of course, they didn’t believe they’d lose with their numbers, but none of them wanted to be among the first few to take a punch from him.

Tension infused the scene—and Kadota finally had the chance to ask what had been bugging him.

“So anyway, who are you guys?”

“ “ “ “…!” ” ” ”

That honest question was enough to finally drive them over the cliff into rage.

They were afraid of him, or at least conscious of him, realizing that this was a big chance to seize his infamy for themselves—they were here exactly because they hungered for that glory—and the guy didn’t even seem to recognize his own status.

For those who terrorized Ikebukuro under the Dollars’ name, there could be no more direct a form of insult.

“…Damn, we’re lucky today. First we crush Toramaru, then we get to lay Kadota low!” one of them crowed to hide his shame.

Veins bulging on his temple, one of the punks pulled out an extending police baton.

“I figure we’ll get a little bit of infamy from bein’ able to say we crushed Toramaru. Like I said, just a little—they’re only some dinky gang from the sticks in Saitama!” he mocked, pulled back the club, and swung it toward Chikage’s face.

But…

Ga-gya! There was a sharp metal squeal, and the special police baton stopped just before Chikage’s cheek.

“Huh…?”

Somehow, there was a rodlike object in Chikage’s hand. A mottled handle of red and black, and a sheath…

It looked a bit like a wakizashi, the short swords used by samurai, but there was no hilt.

“What…is that?” the thug mumbled, stunned that this mystery object had stopped his baton. Chikage clutched the black-and-red sheath in his left hand and drew the handle with his right.

A long silver object appeared from the sheath, humming softly as it slid out.

At a distance, it did indeed look like a wakizashi or perhaps a long yakuza knife. The delinquents’ expressions changed dramatically.

But on second glance, the weapon had a very odd shape. It looked like a blade at first, but there was no edge to it, just the facing of a thick steel bludgeon. At the base of the gently curved rod was a hook-like protrusion, which made it look like a combination of a jitte, a short blade with hooks used by police in the Edo period, and a katana.

Kadota was the only one who recognized the weapon. He fixed Chikage with a curious gaze. “A kabutowari, huh? That’s a stylish weapon,” he said, referring to an old-fashioned “helmet-splitting” tool meant to catch blades in the hook near the handle so they could be broken.

“I bought it at a souvenir shop when I was on vacation in Kamakura.”

“Oh, you mean that store right in front of the giant Buddha statue?”

“You know the place? It’s really cool. I bought a bunch of stuff there, but this one really spoke to me. Had to teach myself how to use it, though; nobody around offers lessons.”

Despite the light, breezy chat they were having, the situation had not changed or improved for the two. The thug with the police baton was still enraged at being ignored.

He pulled the baton up high, ready to split Chikage’s head open—but that was when his target leaped into action.

At the same time that the attacker raised his arm, Chikage twisted his body and whipped around the blunt kabutowari, cracking it against the thug’s nose.

The attacker’s aim looped and drifted upward. An instant later, he fell to his knees, and as if on command, jets of blood shot out of his nostrils.

“…”

Just a few feet away, the thug’s companions gulped, feeling cold sweat break out on their skin.

They had the advantage. And yet the fountain of blood seemed to have erased that illusion from their minds.

“You were saying?” Chikage smiled, kicking over his victim and putting a foot on his head. That pleasant grin was utterly the same as the one he’d worn when chatting with Kadota.

“…Are you sure you weren’t going easy on me earlier?” Kadota wondered.

Chikage tilted his head side to side. “Nah, I don’t use weapons as long as the other guy doesn’t. I didn’t go easy on you, and I ain’t goin’ easy now. That’s that.”

He tapped his own shoulder with the kabutowari rhythmically, turning to the thugs with a sadistic leer. “Yeah, it might be tough to take all of you down…but the first five at least will suffer a gouged eye or a broken collarbone.”

“…!”

The punks held their breath and looked among themselves. With a group that large, they couldn’t lose the fight. But none of them wanted to be among those promised five. It was because they were likely to win that none of them wanted to risk undue harm.

Kadota took a step forward, ready to lay on more pressure.

“And if I’m taking part, too, you can expect another five will get an ear torn off.”

“…You think we’re just a joke?” snarled one of the men calling themselves Dollars, but there was no strength in his voice.

They were on a different scale.

All the hoodlums had to admit that the two men they faced were made of sterner stuff than they were individually.

There were just two of them, both badly wounded, and yet they were intimidating twenty.

But there was no turning back now. The leader of the group, his expression bitter, gave an order to someone around the side of the storeroom, where Kadota and Chikage couldn’t see.

I was hoping to rough ’em up first, before I showed them…

Perhaps he was still rankled by how that weird kid had called him “cowardly” earlier—but at any rate, the head of the thugs decided to trot out his trump card earlier than planned.

From around the shadow of the building appeared a number of girls, held down by other punks.

“…Non…?!” Chikage gasped, eyes bulging. His teeth gnashed as he realized what was going on. The girl, meanwhile, took one apologetic look at him and mumbled.

“…I’m sorry, Rocchi… We got caught.”

Ikebukuro, Raira Academy Field Two, the path heading around back

Mikado and Anri reached the athletic field slightly later than the group of men did.

They moved stealthily, hiding around trees and walls, as they made their way toward the rear of the storage shed, where they knew they would find Kadota.

The voices of the kabaddi team still drifted over the field, and it was hard to imagine a large fight was about to break out up ahead.

But in fact, the student athletes hardly ever came back to the storeroom, so it was essentially its own discreet location. They brought all their supplies from the school building, so the storeroom itself hardly served any purpose.

With this fact in mind, Mikado realized that it was extremely unlikely that any fights or altercations ahead would be witnessed or reported to anyone. In the normal course of events for the Dollars’ mailing list, he had read things that suggested some members used it as a hangout, day and night.

He considered sending out a message saying, “You can’t take girls hostage. Let’s all stop them!” but given the danger that someone might alert the police and make the situation even more complex, he played it safe and deleted it at the last second.

…We just can’t do it.

With innocent girls held captive in harm’s way, there was really no call to “play it safe,” but Mikado was so amped up that he was unable to realize this in the moment.

Plus, if this is truly turning into a criminal matter, the normal members aren’t going to want anything to do with it.

When he first got the Dollars together in the real world, it was like a club meeting, with many of those who attended there out of sheer curiosity. But thinking back on it now, the Dollars had changed since then, bit by bit.

Once the Dollars’ existence had been verified as fact, many began to use that name as a tool for its power.

Mikado did not attempt to stop them or call them out. He knew that he had no such authority. And the end result was this event today.

Whatever it was that Aoba’s gang was plotting, the possibility was always there for something like this to happen.

It’s my fault. All because I never did anything about it…

…?

He realized that something about this thought struck him as wrong.

But his legs carried him onward while the nature of that understanding still eluded him.

Peering around the side of the storeroom, he saw the group of punks from before facing off against two men. They had the girls held hostage, which suggested that the man standing next to Kadota was the leader of Toramaru.

“…We have to get around them somehow and save the hostages…”

But Mikado was there without a plan or any preparations, so his range of actions was limited. He could pretend to call the police to cause chaos or use the fire extinguisher in the storehouse to create a smokescreen…

Without turning around to face Anri, he said, “I’ll jump in there somehow, and if that doesn’t work, you go get the poli…”

griing

He paused in the middle of his sentence when he heard the strange metallic sound.

“Huh…?”

He spun around…and saw a most bizarre sight.

Anri was now holding a katana for some reason—and using it to block a knife held by a sudden assailant wearing a helmet.

—?!

For a moment, he thought it was Celty, but the color of the riding suit was different. And the curves of the suit were more pronounced, undoubtedly feminine.

Wh-who is that…?

Meanwhile, the helmeted woman stabbed at Anri, twice, three times. Anri deflected the attacks with her katana and swiped back at the assailant’s legs. But the attacker narrowly evaded, retreated a few steps, then brandished the knife again.

“S-Sonohara!” Mikado yelped, totally baffled by the situation.

“…Get away from here,” she cautioned, lifted her sword, and took a stride forward.

But her opponent pulled back even farther than that, took something out of her waist pouch, pulled out a pin, and lobbed it at Anri.

Huh?

In a sense, it was exactly what Mikado generally sought in life: the extraordinary.

What is that?

But it was so far out of the bounds of the extraordinary, he imagined that he couldn’t process it, couldn’t prepare himself—and it flew right toward them.

It’s a bo…

The object floated in an arc toward them, and he only identified it when it was several feet away.

Then brilliant light filled his eyes and eradicated the confusion from his mind.

“Huh…?”

“Wh-what was that?”

The thugs from the Dollars had Chikage Rokujou’s girlfriend held hostage. They controlled the reins.

But their control was momentarily broken by a blinding flash. Something had gone off on the other side of the storage building where they couldn’t see.

It vanished in a second, and there was hardly any sound, but the suddenness of that flash was so eerie that they were all momentarily taken aback.

The same thing went for Kadota and Chikage, who were facing away from the flash. Their heads swiveled around to look, eyes wide.

It was just a few seconds—less than ten that their concentration was drawn to the fading remnants of the flash.

Someone with more battle experience, or who recognized the source of the light, would have come to his senses sooner. But the Dollars thugs hadn’t been around that long, and they didn’t know what caused this kind of flash.

And as a result, the temporary void in their minds led to an extreme turnabout in the situation.

One of the men felt something splatter against his arm.

“…Huh?”

He was the one holding a knife to the girl named Non, and there was a liquid splashed on that arm now.

He looked down at that arm and saw—

“Ciao.”

A young man, half-Japanese and half-white, with narrow eyes.

“Y…Yumasaki!” the man shouted in alarm.

Then, he recognized the unique, pungent smell wafting up from his arm—and saw the canister of lighter oil in one of Yumasaki’s hands.

And then the Zippo lighter in the other.

“Wh-whaa—?! W-wait…get that away!” the thug screamed, trying to distance himself from Yumasaki, who used that opportunity to grab Non’s hand and pull her away from the group.

“Ah…h-hey, what the hell!”

“What do you think you’re doin’?!”

“When did you get here, you otaku freak?!” they bellowed and leaped onto Yumasaki—except that several men butted in and blocked their way.

It was only five or so, but their attitudes set them apart from the rabble of street toughs.

“Sorry, everyone’s off on vacation this week, so this was the most I could scrape together. Hopefully we’ll be able to pull off some elite ass kicking: quality over quantity. Brawl Brawl Revolution!”

“…The fuck?! You’re just barnacles hanging off Kadota’s ass!” the leader of the thugs bellowed, but it was too late by then. The newcomers’ ambush started on those holding the girls hostage.

“W-wait…aagh!”

To hold down the girls or let go and fight? Most of the punks didn’t even have the moment needed to consider these options before they were under attack.

Released at last, the girls gathered around the beckoning Yumasaki, and thus the remaining hoodlums rushed to jump him. But instead, they ran headlong into brilliant orange flames.

“I guess in a certain scientific sense, this would be considered pyrokinesis. I wanna take a class from Miss Komoe—yeeha!”

“Whaa—?!”

The thugs came to a stop, feeling the heat of the air on their skin. Instead of the oilcan in Yumasaki’s hand, there was now a spray bottle of some kind.

“Don’t try this at home, kids!” he said with a dazzling smile and let go of the spray trigger.

It was the simplest kind of flamethrower: a lighter and a spray bottle of flammable liquid. If used incorrectly, the spray can could easily explode with disastrous consequences. Local news broadcasts often covered these extremely dangerous events when they resulted in injury and fire.

Yumasaki was well aware of this, and he was using the tools to keep the hoodlums at bay. The initial spray of flame was over, but the lighter was still engaged in his other hand. They wouldn’t dare approach as long as he was at the ready.

Kadota recognized the group that had sprung to his aid and cried out, “You guys…”

Just then, a woman in black clothing—Karisawa—appeared behind him out of nowhere and said, “The truth is, we only thought we’d come check out your fight, Dotachin, but then those weirdos showed up, so we hid and kept an eye on things.”

“…But how did you know to come here?”

“Dollars’ mailing list. You can look up what it said later. Anyway, why was everyone just spacing out for a second there? That was how Yumacchi was able to rush in and save the day.”

“Hmm? Oh, there was a weird flash over there,” Kadota said. He spun around to check the direction of the flash—and heard numerous motor engines coming from the opposite end of the area.

Beyond the fence of the field, motorcycles were emerging through the trees, piloted by young men in leather jackets.

Once they determined there was no gate, they stopped the bikes and started to climb right over the fence to approach them.

It was a group that had cornered a different bunch of Dollars in a different location.

They had finished off those Dollars and were forcing them to summon more members, when they noticed the expressions of their victims changing. Sensing something was wrong, they had grabbed a phone from one of the Dollars and checked his e-mail—and found a picture of their boss in what looked like a park. In the next message, there was a photo of his girlfriend.

Belatedly, they had started heading to their leader’s aid, gathering up those comrades who were healthy enough to fight along the way.

Chikage watched his gang members arrive and muttered, “Why are they here…?”

Then, he looked around and realized that somehow, he was right in the middle of the hoodlums.

“Huh…?” “Whoa!” “It’s you!”

They had been so distracted by Yumasaki’s new group that Chikage’s sudden presence startled them, and they reached out to grab him…

Except that the first one caught a kick to the groin and crumpled.

The second one lifted a two-by-four to swing, until the tip of the kabutowari cracked his two front teeth.

The third pulled a knife and tried to slash at Chikage’s arm, but his first strike hit the kabutowari’s hook, and the other man twisted hard, breaking the blade.

“Wha…brgh!”

The attacker lost his balance and got a blow directly to the face. In just moments, Chikage had knocked out three men.

“So since you’re desperate enough to take girls hostage to get what you want, I’m guessin’ you’re also desperate enough to die. Yeah?” he said menacingly.

Meanwhile, the other Toramaru members had scaled the fence and were rapidly approaching.

“Boss! You all right?!”

“No prob,” he reassured them.

Their eyes were bloodshot with rage as they asked, “Can we do all these guys, boss?”

“Hang on,” Chikage cautioned. He spun around and slammed the kabutowari against the collarbone of a man who was trying to sneak up on him from behind. “It’s kinda chaotic here, so don’t attack anyone unless they try to hit me or you guys. I’ll do the finishing blows; you just knock ’em off their feet.”

His tone of voice was lazy and matter-of-fact, but there were glimpses of fiery, demonic rage in its depths. Sensing that danger, one of the hoodlums turned away from them, trying to escape.

An arm wrapped itself around his neck.

“Who said you could run away?”

“K-Kadota…”

“C’mon, let’s enjoy this.”

Kadota slammed the hapless, gurgling goon onto the ground with a lariat and stood up, grimacing.

“…If these kinds of scumbags are coming outta the woodwork, maybe it’s time to split from the Dollars.”

One minute earlier, around the side of the storeroom

Vorona blinked at the exact moment the powerful flash happened.

She had thrown a specially modified flashbang with minimal power. Unlike the one Slon tossed outside of Shinra’s apartment, this one had no blast, just a blinding flash.

She was protected by the light-blocking film over the helmet, but the other two in the direct path of the flash would be essentially blind, even if they had closed their eyes.

The loss of their vision would last more than just a few moments, but it was not long overall. Vorona promptly moved into action, intending to inflict a wound on Anri Sonohara that would leave her immobile. She plunged her knife toward the girl’s side.

But the arm that held the katana whipped around and blocked the knife blade.

Metal rang, and the girl slid the sword downward, trying to slash Vorona’s legs. She leaped backward to evade it. Sensing that even a graze from that katana would be dangerous, she put herself at more than the usual safe distance away.

Can she see? Vorona wondered, based on the precision of the girl’s movement. She looked at her target’s face—and paused.

Anri’s eyes were shining bloodred, just like last night—even brighter, in fact.

They glowed.

That was all it took for the girl to appear alien, inhuman.

Vorona smiled. This was a being that did not exist within her knowledge.

Was she human or something else?

For a woman who lived to determine the strength and frailty of humanity, this girl and the Black Rider, alien things in human form, were extremely fascinating.

Vorona noted Mikado, who was bent over and covering his eyes, and said, “That boy appears just human. Unfortunate.”

“…If you hurt him, you will pay,” Anri threatened, eyes narrowed.

Vorona smiled and said, “Singular question. Please offer answer.”

“…?” Anri came to a momentary stop.

“Which are you, human or monster?”

“…”

Vorona approached as she waited for the answer, throwing knife jabs in between katana swipes. Anri deflected each attack and answered, “I am…neither.”

Vorona leaped abruptly to the side and pressed a switch in the handle of the knife. The blade shot out of the grip like a bullet toward Anri’s midsection.

But she simply turned and deflected the projectile away. From within the picture frame, Anri continued, “I am only a parasite.”

Anri’s eyesight hadn’t recovered by this point yet.

The flashbang burned her retinas, leaving her sense of sight just a white haze—but residing within her, Saika could still feel: the palpitation, the breath, the footsteps, the creaking muscle of her beloved humanity. Even the slight noise of the enemy’s knife cutting through air…

Saika sensed everything caused by humanity.

All thanks to her twisted love.

Vorona didn’t know about Saika, but she did realize that something about Anri’s katana was special. She had given up on the idea of breaking it, and if forced to use firearms, she was losing confidence in her ability to “get the job done without fatality.”

For one thing, injuries by gun in Japan were treated like a grave matter. All the girl had to do was hide the katana, and “a normal girl was suddenly shot by an attacker” would be all the truth that remained.

It would be major news, drastically affecting her ability to complete her job in Ikebukuro. She might find it difficult to even stay in the area, much less do her duty.

Let’s see…, Vorona thought, and decided to test Anri. She spun around, pulled a fresh knife from her waist, and headed toward Mikado, who was still bent over and rubbing his eyes.

“…!”

Anri rushed after her in a panic—but Vorona merely looked over her shoulder to make sure that the girl was following her lead.

Without her sense of sight, Anri had to rely on Saika’s senses to follow.

Based on that strange projectile knife and the flash grenade, it was unwise to fight at a distance with this foe, Saika’s experience warned her. So she obeyed and chased after Vorona to keep close.

Part of her was desperate not to see Mikado hurt as a result of this, and that urge ended up plunging her into greater chaos.

Vorona was rushing straight ahead—into the midst of the violent brawl the groups of delinquents had just started.

Somewhere in Ikebukuro

“Is that you, Aoba? Things are getting interesting over here.”

“Oh yeah?”

Aoba was getting a call from the companions he sent to keep an eye on Kadota’s fight. He listened to the report without much visible sign of emotion.

“Anyway, their crazy fight ended, they awoke to the power of friendship, then a bunch of weirdos came along with hostages, there was a huge flash somewhere, and fire, and—”

“…I can see this is my fault for assigning reconnaissance duties to you, Gin,” Aoba lamented. He paused and ordered, “Just set all that aside and tell me what you’re seeing at this very moment.”

“Oh, okay. Well, there’s a guy in a riding suit…a different person than the one in the riding suit from the factory. They just jumped in with a knife…”

“…?”

What the hell is going on over there? Aoba wondered, gauging that it might be best if they headed over to the scene, too. Then, the report through the phone got even more confusing.

“Okay, so that rider is currently…fighting a chick with a katana. Damn, what’s up with her? She, uh…I think she’s wearing red sunglasses or something… She looks like she’s our age—and she’s got some nice tits! Damn! Oh, shit, did you see that move?”

“…?”

The explanation wasn’t making any more sense, but something about it made Aoba uneasy. He told the boy to take a photo or video instead and send it over.

Less than a minute later, he opened the new message, looked at the photo attachment—and gasped.

There she was, a girl with a katana in the midst of a crowd.

It was a bit blurry, but there was enough detail for Aoba to recognize the face.

“…Miss Anri?”

A few minutes earlier, Raira Academy Field Two, street

Well, shoot.

Celty looked down from her hiding spot on a building roof.

There was a truck below: undoubtedly the same one that carried the bike of the mysterious attacker from last night.

It contained a ridiculous gun of the sort you only saw in movies, games, and documentary footage of foreign wars, and the woman had shot at her with it. It was only a day ago.

I’m sure she’s in there…

Celty hadn’t been sitting there, twiddling her thumbs when Akane left the apartment building. She took her guard job seriously and affixed a little shadow thread to the girl’s clothes, just in case. She gave the thread properties like liquid or smoke so that it wouldn’t tangle around her neck or sever a fingertip. The little black thread would stretch and stretch the more you pulled on it.

But even Celty didn’t think that this impossible means of tracking would come in vitally useful within just minutes of placing it. She followed the trail of her own shadow, pulling it back into her body—and found it leading right to that same truck.

Because she had been extremely careful, riding Shooter—who was back to motorcycle form—around from rooftop to rooftop out of sight, she was fairly certain they hadn’t noticed her tracking them.

Along the way, she startled a company worker or two trying to hide from his duties on a roof, but she made sure to give them a polite nod of the helmet. Surely that would help hush up what she was doing.

So anyway, what now? I’ve hardly ever had any experience with hostage takers…and I have no way of knowing what’s going on inside the truck.

They might have a knife pressed to Akane’s neck or a bomb tied to her so that if she tried to run free, it would blow her up.

This seemed unlikely, she had to admit, but these were the people who fired that preposterous rifle in the middle of a peaceful street. They might do anything.

And why are they here? Isn’t this…?

Just a short distance away was Raira Academy Field Two, where the girls’ soccer team and kabaddi team were practicing.

Kabaddi, huh? It looks fun. I bet I can never play, because I can’t chant, “Kabaddi, kabaddi,” like the rest of them…

She looked further beyond. At the end of the field was the roof of a storage building surrounded by trees, on the other side of which Kadota would be facing off against that strange man.

I hope he’s all right… I bet that Kyouhei guy is fine, since he seems good in a fight. The problem is Mikado’s group. Where are they now…?

She scanned the area, including the truck. Her sense of vision was similar to that of a human being’s, and in the corner of it, something flashed.

—?!

The light was clearly unnatural.

It wasn’t from a bulb of any kind, but the sort of expanding light caused by a small explosion.

The flash came from right next to the roof of the storage building. The wall around the building made it difficult to see from the direction of the field, but with her height advantage on top of the roof, Celty saw it clearly.

She expected to hear the blast a few seconds later when the sound reached her, but nothing came.

What was that…?

Sensing some foreboding, she turned her attention back to the truck parked near the entrance to the field, just in case something changed while she was preoccupied with the distraction.

Huh?

What she saw stunned her so much, she nearly leaped over the edge of the roof.

What…is he doing here? Is he going to save Kadota?!

As she watched in disbelief, a figure strode boldly through the gate of the field.

A man in a very distinctive black-and-white uniform—the kind a bartender would wear.

Beside the storeroom

It was suddenly quiet in the shadow of the storeroom.

Stuck between the bustle happening out back and the athletics on the field, one boy groaned, “Urrgh…”

Mikado was still temporarily blinded from the flash. But his hearing was fine, and he’d heard the conversation between the attacker and Anri.

“That boy appears just human. Unfortunate,” the voice had said in awkward Japanese, but he could detect the insult in it.

“Just” a human. That was it.

He wasn’t stunned by the unfairness of the attack. It was the statement.

Just a human.

That he was pronounced “just a human” was the worst shock of all to Mikado.

To be precise, it was the very fact that he was shocked at being described as just a human that was so shocking to him.

What…am I?

I just have an admiration for the extraordinary.

There’s no need for me to be extraordinary myself…

Amid his confusion, Mikado recalled Anri’s words: “If you hurt him, you will pay.”

…She protected me.

I intended to keep her safe, and she was the one doing it for me…

…I knew this would happen.

She took down those three punks in just a second…

…No, what am I thinking?

That’s not what I want to say.

Wait—

Weird…

Then, what was I… What was I…trying to think about…?

Mikado assumed that he was still confused by that sudden flash moments ago.

But even as he tried to tell himself that, Anri’s words echoed in his head.

“I am only a parasite.”

…What was she saying?

I seem to recall some statement to that effect when we first met…

But…she’s not latched onto Harima anymore…

At this point, a dark urge rose within him again.

But unlike the scorn he felt for the man who kicked him earlier, this was anger at himself.

If anyone’s a parasite…it’s me.

Just for starting up the Dollars, he felt like he was special, despite being unable to accomplish anything for himself. He didn’t think that he viewed himself as special, but the truth was clear now.

Their mysterious attacker labeled him “just a human” and essentially ignored him, wrote him off. And that realization was a hurtful insult like no other.

I’m such…a pathetic creep…

He began to feel sorry for himself.

And yet, Mikado stood up, hoping there was still something he could do.

The light that blinded his eyes faded, bit by bit.

When his eyesight was functional enough to see again…

There was a man dressed as a bartender, hoisting a motorcycle on his shoulder.

“…?! Sh-Shizuo?!”

“Ahh…right, right. You’re what’s-his-name. Celty’s friend…Ryuugasaki? I met you when we had that hot-pot party at Shinra’s place.”

“Th-that’s me. But…it’s Ryuugamine.”

“Hmm? Oh, right, right. Sorry.”

The sudden appearance of the strongest man in Ikebukuro nearly knocked Mikado for a loop. He was hoisting the bike over his shoulder with all the cool effort of a dancer holding a boom box.

The living legend tangled Mikado in even more strings of confusion, but Shizuo’s voice was cold enough to dash his overheating brain.

“Uh, anyway. You’re in the Dollars, too, right?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, yes!”

“Right… It doesn’t seem right not to tell anyone, so given that you’re my junior from Raira, I might as well tell you…”

Mikado nodded firmly to express his attention. Shizuo looked downcast, slightly apologetic.

“I’m off the Dollars now. That’s all—spread the word.”

Huh?

“…Huh?” Mikado’s internal confusion made its way directly out of his mouth. “Wh-why?!”

“You saw that message. I don’t wanna breathe the same air as guys who’d take women hostage. It’s that simple,” he said and strode forward.

“So now that I’ve told you, I’m going to consider myself to have no relation to the Dollars whatsoever.”

Mikado couldn’t stop him. All he could do was wait for his eyesight to clear up.

He was praying that the conversation he just heard—that everything that had happened in this crazy day—was nothing but a dream.

Behind the athletic storehouse

“Huh? Is that Anri?”

The woman in the riding suit and the girl with the katana had appeared out of nowhere. Few noticed the two in the midst of all the other chaos, but some did. Yumasaki had gone to free the hostage girls around the back, and when he came back, he was surprised to recognize the girl fighting with the sword.

Fortunately for Anri, this was after Rio Kamichika ran off with her friends.

“Whoa, that’s Anri,” murmured Karisawa, who was also returning from seeing Kadota back to the fight.

Her acquaintance was fighting with a katana, eyes blazing red.

Either through sheer coincidence or some psychic soul link, both Yumasaki and Karisawa, despite not being in audible range of each other, simultaneously muttered, “Shakugan no Shana?”

* * *

“What an incredible twist of fate. Anri’s a Flame Haze…,” Yumasaki marveled, wildly incorrect.

Next to him, a girl said, “Wait, that’s Rio’s friend. Is she in the kendo club or something?”

“Huh? Why didn’t you run away?”

“Because Rocchi’s still here,” said Non, Chikage’s girlfriend (out of many), watching Anri with wonder. But her eyes went wider when she saw what was beyond the girl. “Wow, look at that.”

Yumasaki followed her suggestion and gazed across the brawl.

“…Ah.”

There was a demonic presence walking toward them, carrying a motorcycle.

When Anri Sonohara’s vision began to clear, and she could sense her surroundings as a human does again, she suddenly dropped into a worried panic, her movement clumsy.

While she’d been blinded and fighting through Saika’s sense alone, she had somehow been dragged right into the midst of the Dollars’ fight.

If she was seen, it would cause an uproar. She tried to process that fear and haste as events from within the picture frame—except that one element, the fear that Mikado, Masaomi, or Mika might leave her, reached within her world and delayed her reaction for just an instant.

Vorona’s leg sweep caught her cleanly, and Anri’s body lurched. The attacker’s knife plunged toward her, certain to land true—until it was stopped, ringing loudly, by a weapon like a cross between a jitte and a wakizashi.

“…Kabutowari…,” mumbled Vorona, whose mind contained the knowledge of that weapon. She glared at the man who interfered with her fight.

“Interruption is not good. I will be displeased,” she announced threateningly at Chikage, the interloper.

He grinned and shook his head. “Look, I like catfights as much as the next guy…but put the blades away. Be a shame to scar those beautiful faces and bodies, wouldn’t it? If you wanna fight, let’s set up some mud wrestling.”

He couldn’t see Vorona’s face through the tinted helmet, but Chikage’s attitude was determined the moment he could tell that she was female.

Meanwhile, he held onto Anri’s arm, ensuring that for just a moment, neither woman could swing her weapon.

“…”

Who is this man? He is strong…but seems amateurish, thought Vorona, looking up to determine if this meddler was worthy of being her foe. But…

“…? …?!”

Her attention was grabbed not by Chikage’s face, but by something she saw over his shoulder.

A man shrouded in bartender’s clothes, carrying her own motorcycle as he approached. A sight that made her doubt her own sanity.

Even the others wrapped up in their group brawl, who hadn’t noticed when Anri and Vorona slipped among them, did come to a stop when they saw the stunning sight of Shizuo carrying the motorcycle.

The members of Toramaru who weren’t familiar with him just stared and murmured in disbelief, while the Dollars who did know to fear Shizuo looked at one another in grave worry.

The seemingly unstoppable battle came to an abrupt halt from nothing more than the appearance of Shizuo Heiwajima on the scene.

“Wait, aren’t you…?”

“Shizuo?”

Chikage and Kadota muttered. Shizuo surveyed the scene. “I heard…there were girls taken hostage. What happened with that?” he asked.

His tone was surprisingly placid. Outside of context, you might think he was quite a well-mannered young man.

Anri heard Saika’s cursed voices swell within her and glanced carefully at her attacker, who was still held in place by Chikage.

Vorona couldn’t move.

She could hear the hooligans around them calling this man Shizuo.

But why was he carrying her bike over his shoulder?

And how was he able to lift well over two hundred pounds of machinery so easily?

Slon and Semyon might be able to do it, but probably not single-handedly. And they were big, burly men, not like this fellow.

Most concerning of all to her was the strange shivering in her body that started the moment she saw Shizuo.

…What is this?

Perhaps this feeling, this unfamiliar sensation, was similar to her the way that Anri felt when Saika rose up in excitement at Shizuo’s presence.

It was the voice of instinct, or perhaps her “soul,” disciplined by years of experience.

The instant Vorona saw Shizuo, she knew. She knew that this man was an impossible thing, far beyond the bounds of common sense.

Every cell in her brain sang its urge to fight the man before her, and every muscle screamed to run away.

An ordinary person could not recognize Shizuo’s danger at first glance. They only came to that understanding once they witnessed his anger, what he could do to a vending machine or car, or came to grips with their own bodies flying through the air.

But just as certain wild animals are extremely perceptive when it comes to sensing danger, all Vorona’s knowledge and experience told her beforehand that Shizuo meant danger.

It was the palpable fear of standing before a tank cannon. And in a way, it was also the unreal feeling of knowing that a distant guided missile is pointed your way.

Vorona was so excited by this unfamiliar combination of sensations that her cheeks flushed.

“Yeah, we rescued the hostages, thanks to Yumasaki.”

“I see. That’s good. By the way, whose bike is this?” Shizuo asked casually.

The rider in the full helmet raised her hand. “Motorbike is mine.”

“Hmm…? Oh, gotcha. Sorry, I thought it belonged to these hostage-taking scumbags, and I was gonna throw it at them. If it’s not, it wouldn’t be nice to smash it, I guess,” he said, somewhat horrifyingly, and lowered the motorcycle to the ground. “By the way, who are you? You’re dressed like Celty… You know her? In fact…what are you doing over there?”

He noticed Chikage, standing between the two women brandishing blades, and concluded, “Ah, must be a real sordid situation, then.”

“No, it’s not like that,” Chikage protested.

But Shizuo ignored him and continued, “So…which one’s the piece of shit who took the hostages?”

His voice was calm and orderly. But anyone who knew Shizuo understood what was packed behind that expression. His glance naturally settled on the leader of the hoodlums—he found his suspect.

“Y-you…you bastards…,” the dumb sap screeched, then went for broke. “So…so what if it was, huh? Whaddaya gonna do about it?!”

He pulled a butterfly knife from his rear pocket and made a beeline for Shizuo.

“Diiie!”

He didn’t seem to know what he was doing with that knife. He swung his arm around wildly as he approached. Shizuo slipped sideways around him and gave him a light punch.

There was a dull cruk.

But the knife didn’t fall to the ground.

The man, who didn’t notice what had happened, tried to stab Shizuo right in the stomach, then realized his weapon was gone.

“Huh…?”

Then he saw it.

His wrist was out of its socket, broken and pointed straight down.

“Ah…aaaaaaah!!” he screamed, noticing the pain and the state of his hand at last.

“…Shut up, you scumbag!”

Shizuo grabbed the man by the collar, bent backward, and hurled him with all his strength.

“ ”

The man flew directly horizontal, parallel to the ground, his scream unable to break free of his lungs.

The large young man’s body shot forth with even greater force than the human cannonball at the circus—and embedded itself into the fence over thirty feet away.

He passed out, limbs twisted in an ugly way. Satisfied, Shizuo glared at the remaining hooligans.

“Yeep!” “O-oh, shit…”

With their leader defeated, all the Dollars unaffiliated with Kadota scattered to the wind.

“…Despicable to the very end, huh?” snarled Shizuo as he watched them run, teeth gnashing with the last smoldering embers of his annoyance.

Guess I should scamper off and look for that fleabrain myself. I can use the last of my irritation to crush his limbs…

He decided to just leave—but when he looked up, the woman in the riding helmet was blocking his path ahead.

“What? You want some—” he started, then felt something poke his chest. “Huh…?”

It was the gleaming silver tip of a knife.

Though he wouldn’t have known it, this was the same murderous Spetsnaz knife that had been utilized against Anri moments earlier.

“…”

The next second, the knife, which never got more than a fraction of an inch into Shizuo’s chest, dropped to the ground.

Time stopped for everyone who saw it happen.

Those who knew Shizuo envisioned the woman’s body flying through the air.

She had tried to kill him, but that image of the inevitable result popped into their minds before they could even wonder why she would do such a thing, and the resulting fear stopped them in their tracks.

Only the woman moved within this frozen time.

She spun away from Shizuo and ran straight for the entrance to the field.

“…”

A moment later, Shizuo understood what she had done to him.

He saw the rip in his clothes and the slight presence of blood—and slowly muttered, “I ain’t into hitting women, and I don’t plan to start…”

The experience of being stabbed reminded him of the face of the man he called “fleabrain,” and with his teeth grinding, he leaped into motion.

“…But I hope you’re all right with that expensive-lookin’ helmet being crushed, dammit!”

Vorona heard the bellow of rage behind her as she ran. She flipped the switch of her helmet communicator on and said to Slon, “I will return in thirty seconds. Request to prepare gun. Quickly, quickly.”

“Huh? Hang on, what’s happening? Is it the Black Rider?!”

“Denial. I think it is human. In fact, I hope it is human creature. It is unbelievable, but I am in a state of excitement. I exist in the space between pleasure and fear.”

“What are you talking about…? Anyway, you say danger’s coming? I’ll open the rear trailer and start the engine!”

“Understood.”

At that moment, she saw something pass beside her at phenomenal speed.

…My bike.

Her motorcycle shot past her at the same velocity as the man who’d been thrown into the fence. It crashed into a tree, utterly destroyed. Vorona processed all this and kept running without looking back.

He probably did not intend to hit me. Foolish man. But this is not a foe whom I can ignore…just for being an amateur!

The mental pressure was incredible. It was like feeling a fighter jet’s machine-gun spray bearing down on her. In an instant, the sweat on her back dried to nothing.

He is not like the Black Rider. Not like the bespectacled girl.

He does not possess their eerie alienness.

He is undoubtedly…human!

She ran and ran, delighted in a way to feel this terror from a “human.”

Ran to the truck, to get her equipment and use all her strength to determine the fragility (the toughness) of the human named Shizuo.

But this unprecedented level of excitement did cause her judgment to suffer.

She failed to consider one possibility.

The extremely crucial possibility that another enemy lurked in the vicinity of the truck.

Near Raira Academy Field Two, rooftop

What’s going on?

Celty sensed a faint rustling in the air.

She thought she might have heard Shizuo bellow and then saw the rear door on the truck below swing open, followed by the sound of something slamming into a wall and disintegrating.

Wh…what was that?!

She focused on the scene below with greater alarm—and saw a woman in a riding suit fleeing from the entrance of the field.

It’s the one from yesterday!

And then, right behind her…

Huh? Shizuo?!

As he chased the woman, Shizuo saw the rear door of the truck parked outside the field swing open.

He assumed it was unrelated to anything, until she just jumped right inside.

The truck started to peel off—she was getting away!

“Oh no you don’t!”

Shizuo darted around the rear of the roofed truck, hoping to hop aboard it, but in the next moment, he saw something bizarre.

Right at the helmeted woman’s fingertips was the kind of rifle you’d only see in a movie. He witnessed the scene just at the moment she was going to pick it up.

But even more distracting to Shizuo was the sight, in the fore part of the truck bay behind the woman, of a young girl trussed up and gagged.

…Huh?

He immediately recognized the girl’s face and clothes.

The word die and the crackle of electricity—the features of their first meeting.

Akane?! What is she doing here…?

In the second that he paused, the woman had steadied her gun.

Oh, crap. I’m gonna get lead poisoning! he thought, which is not what most people worry about when they see a gun. He darted toward the unmanned paid parking lot on the side away from the field.

A number of metal objects shot through the place where he had been standing.

There was hardly any sound—it must have used subsonic rounds and a silencer.

“Tsk…”

What’s up with these people?! Shizuo thought, half-angry and half-curious. Why is Akane here…? Why would people kidnapping Akane attack me, too? If there’s anything that connects me to her…

Suddenly, he recalled what she had said that morning: “Big Brother Izaya.”

…! Oh…of course. That fleabrain tried to use Akane to kill me…and when she failed, he hired someone else to finish the job and silence the girl as well…

He was not entirely correct about this. But…

I’ve had enough…

I’ve—had—enough—of—that—fleabrain’s—shit!

The vision of his archenemy’s face completely obliterated his attempts to control his rage meter. He looked around for something to grab…

In a corner of the small lot, he spotted a rusted old car with a piece of paper stuck to the windshield.

“This car has been abandoned for over half a year. We will soon need to have it scrapped. If you own this vehicle, please contact me at ”

Shizuo flashed an angry smile and approached the vehicle.

“Request to briefly stop the car, Slon. First shot was evaded. Greater agility than I imagined.”

“Got it.”

Vorona waited at attention, gun in hand, watching out of the rear of the truck. He might swing around the side of the parking lot or hop over a wall, but in either case, there was only one direction she could see out of the truck.

She heard the breathing of the girl behind her and complained, “Was it impossible to at least hide with burlap sack or sheet?”

He might have seen her. If he gets away and reports this to the police, that will be trouble.

…Now I have a reason to finish him off.

…I am happy…

Belatedly, Slon realized that Vorona was referring to Akane Awakusu and bit back petulantly, “Oh, come on. He’s running around the city on the lam from the yakuza. Plus, it was your idea to come out here…”

“Quiet. Silence, please.”

“?”

Vorona thought she sensed an unfamiliar sound behind Slon’s voice.

…Just my imagination…?

The next moment—

There was a terrific metallic crash, and “something” flew into the street from the cover of the parking lot.

“…Что?” she mumbled in Russian when she recognized the object. It was the same sound she made when she saw Anri’s body produce the katana.

In other words, it was just as stunning and unreal, if not more so.

“Hey…what was that, Vorona?!”

“…Request we launch vehicle. Quickly!”

“G-got it,” he replied hastily. He must have seen it in the rear mirror, too.

In the opening shots of Westerns, one often sees tumbleweeds rolling across the path.

But this was much larger—a tumblecar, if you will.

Local residents and witnesses of the event would later describe it thusly: “A blond bartender kicked an abandoned car like a soccer ball.”

But the only ones who would ever believe them were others from Ikebukuro who had witnessed Shizuo Heiwajima’s legend in the flesh for themselves.

Vorona had been through many, many experiences in her life.

But even she had never experienced anything like this.

Perhaps if her father Drakon or Lingerin, veteran mercenaries, soldiers, and adventurers all combined their past experiences into one, they could react to this situation—but Vorona was simply too young to accomplish this.

She compensated for her youth with density of experience and knowledge gleaned from books, but even Vorona had never read a book that contained the answer to the question, What do you do when a car comes suddenly tumbling toward you?

Perhaps the answer was in a video game strategy guide, but Vorona had never touched a video game in her life.

For an instant, she thought she saw a shadow flit between the tumbling car and the parking lot. Her finger tightened on the trigger by impulse—but then the car was upon her.

 !

She backed up hastily, just narrowly avoiding where the car fell to earth. The massive bulk of metal clattered and rolled past the truck with a tremendous racket.

That was close… Where is he?

The bartender, whom she assumed would be behind the car, was nowhere to be seen.

 ! The car was a distraction!

She promptly scanned the area, figuring that he had to be hiding somewhere…

But she didn’t realize what he did.

Parkour with pure strength.

Shizuo kicked the car and took off running, using the wall and electric pole to launch himself to the second floor of the apartment building next to the parking lot, then ran along the veranda parallel to the truck.

And just as Vorona started to move back to the truck’s rear door—Shizuo was airborne.

He leaped into the truck at a diagonal angle from above.

From Vorona’s perspective, he might as well have teleported there.

She swung her gun to face him without missing a beat, but Shizuo’s absolute speed was a hair faster. He grabbed the barrel of the rifle and clenched his hand. It bent as easily as if it were a plastic straw. Vorona judged that firing might cause an explosion and promptly let go of the weapon.

She crouched down, sweeping her leg in an attempt to knock him down out of the truck bay—but he steadied himself against the wall and caught her kick right where it was aimed.

…!

A painful sensation shot through Vorona’s leg, as if she had kicked the wall of the truck herself—or more accurately, kicked a large hunk of metal welded to the truck.

Hand-to-hand combat…is pointless.

She pushed back on her numb foot to put space between her and Shizuo, pulling a spare pistol from near her feet and pointing it at him…

But where do I aim?!

The gun in her hands was quite small caliber, and the bullets loaded didn’t have much piercing power, either. Ordinarily, that actually made them more lethal to humans, but in this particular individual’s case, she had no confidence that it would pierce his wall of muscle. And her attempt to stab him with the Spetsnaz knife had stopped just under the skin.

…But he cannot strengthen his eyeballs.

Vorona instantly shifted her aim to his face.

I wish we could have had a proper fight. I’m sorry…

Was that silent apology meant for her opponent or herself for failing to satisfy her desire?

But this was not the time to hesitate. Before Shizuo could react, she pulled the trigger…

Pulled…

Pulled…

But not all the way.

 ?!

The trigger would not move farther.

She glanced down and saw—a black shadow tangled right around her gun.

Impossible! It’s the Black Rider!

She spun around to see that there was the Black Rider’s motorcycle, right behind them.

That completely silent bike.

Vorona had never even conceived of a vehicle with such excellent sneaking ability.

Just then, a voice came through her helmet.

“Hold on tight!”

Celty felt relief flood into her breast when she confirmed that the woman’s gun was not going to fire. Even Shizuo couldn’t walk away from being shot in the face at that range, she suspected.

I mean…normally that would be fatal. But anyway…good boy, Shooter! Way to not make any noise! Now, if I can just subdue that strange woman with my shadow…

She raised her right hand and prepared to exude a fresh one. But before she could, the truck went from moving along at a good clip to a sudden slam on the brakes.

Oh no…!

The rear of the truck rushed up to meet her, and Celty had to pull sideways in an emergency brake. She was just a bit too late—Shooter made contact with the truck and toppled over.

Celty quickly exuded shadow toward the asphalt, creating a temporary training wheel that helped push up the fallen motorcycle into a standing position again.

Absolute insanity! What about Shizuo…?

She turned to face the truck again.

Inside the rear…

The moment the truck hit the brakes, Shizuo promptly punched through the side wall of the vehicle. That successfully kept him from being thrown out of the car, and he took that moment to glance again at the girl stashed at the innermost part of the rear bay.

Yep. That’s Akane, all right.

Then, he noticed that the truck’s sudden braking had caused part of its stack of cargo to collapse. A box fell down onto the table, upon which was an array of knives, some of which flipped upward and started to descend right toward the helpless girl.

 !

The next thing he knew, Shizuo had ripped his arm free of the wall and was jumping forward. The force of his jump was so powerful that a piece of the floor was pulverized. It propelled him through the air so that he shot to cover Akane’s body like a cannonball—and the knives hit his back instead.

He felt a faint twinge of pain at the impact but turned back toward the rear door of the truck, otherwise unaffected.

There was Celty, recovered from her fall and sidling up to the vehicle again. Shizuo picked up Akane, bolted to his feet, and leaped with the strength of a wildcat.

 !

Vorona tensed, certain he was going to attack her—but he had no thought for her at all. Shizuo jumped straight out of the truck altogether.

This action might have been unthinkable for Shizuo just a few years earlier.

Who would have predicted that he would not give in to a thunderous rage, but instead prioritize the safety of another person—a girl he barely knew, in fact?

But his troubles with Saika had taught Shizuo how to utilize his strength, and now he was leaping out of the truck to keep Akane safe.

Normally, jumping out of a moving car would seem to be the opposite of keeping her safe—but Celty saw him leap out and fashioned a net of shadow that caught the two in midair.

He was enveloping the girl’s tiny body to keep it safe, and there was a good chance he’d have been successful, even without Celty’s help. But the dullahan couldn’t help but feel a cold sweat at her friend’s sheer recklessness.

…If there had been a dump truck coming up behind us, the poor girl could have died—and he’d still be fine…

While Celty lowered the two to the ground, the truck made its way onto Meiji Street. For the same reason as yesterday, she decided not to go in too deep.

…Akane’s safe, and that’s what matters, she told herself and glanced over at Shizuo. He had Akane untied now, and she clung to him, her eyes and shoulders trembling with emotion.

Thank goodness, Celty thought. But she was confused by what Akane said next.

“Why…?”

Shizuo looked back at her in confusion.

“Why…did you save me? I’m trying…to kill you…”

“…Wow, still present tense?” he snorted, but she looked at him doubtfully.

Huh?

“I mean…I mean…”

“Well, whatever… Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“That’s good to hear,” he said and smiled, not in the false way he did this morning, but a proper, hearty smile. He patted her head.

“If you got hurt, you certainly wouldn’t be able to kill me, then.”

She gazed at that smile uncertainly, but then her lips curved a bit, too, and she said, “Yeah…”

…

What are they talking about?

Wait, um…what’s going on?

And weren’t Shiki and Akane talking about something like this earlier…?

Without having the full context of the situation, all Celty heard was a rather violent and ominous conversation.

But they were both smiling, so she considered this a good sign and decided to send Shiki a message.

Raira Academy Field Two

“So what was today all about, anyway?” Yumasaki asked.

Kadota started to explain, but all that he could summon from his throat was a sigh. “Look…I’ll tell you over dinner.”

The hoodlums had run off, and Chikage had ordered his Toramaru mates to disperse, so out of the forty-plus who had been here previously, just Kadota and his friends remained. After their temporary evacuation, the hostage girls left, too, once they realized they were safe. They were talking about their plans to inform the police, so sooner or later, the unconscious man still stuck through the fence would get hauled in.

“Speaking of which, if we don’t move soon, we’ll get dragged in, too… What should it be? Simon’s?”

“I think Russia Sushi is temporarily closing early this evening.”

“Damn, really?” Kadota asked, slightly crestfallen.

Karisawa suggested, “Then, how about that Taiwanese place right near Russia Sushi? The one above the arcade.”

“Oh, the one at the bowling alley…? Good idea. Dang, we should have invited Chikage, too,” Kadota lamented.

The plan seemed settled, but then Karisawa stepped over a line. “You know, after your fight with that…Chikage guy? I saw some friendship budding there.”

“Please don’t get started on any corny shit.”

“Look, I’m just saying! From my perspective, that’s some real juicy shipping material right there!”

“…I get the feeling there’s a lot of stuff you won’t ever understand until you die a time or two,” Kadota grumbled.

Yumasaki joined the conversation to protest, “Karisawa! You know, it’s people like you who always see Boys Love material in honest rivalry and male friendships that are ruining things! That’s why whenever there are a ton of male characters, jerks just assume, ‘Oh, it’s just a fangirl bait series.’ Apologize! Repent for your actions!”

“Why? I mean, you can ship objects on objects and make it gay. Remember the other day, when we were arguing about which was the top and which was the bottom when pairing CD and DVD?”

“Just shut your mouths. You’re not even arguing the same topic!” Kadota snapped.

Things seemed back to normal already. The swelling around Kadota’s eye and the blood dripping from his mouth were ugly, but there was no pain or regret in his expression.

The others gathered around and were starting to debate whether the meal should be split evenly or all on Kadota when Yumasaki noticed Anri loitering around nearby and called out, “Oh, are you in, too, Anri?”

At that very moment, Karisawa snuck up and grabbed Anri from behind.

“Eek!”

“That’s right, Anri. I have so many questions for you today!” Karisawa leered, groping the poor girl all over. “Where did you hide that katana, huh? Are you really a Flame Haze? Or just a girl with glasses who loves to cosplay? Perhaps a busty, beautiful incarnation of the cursed blade Muramasa?”

“Knock it off, you lecherous creep,” Kadota said, pulling the older girl off Anri.

When Karisawa noticed how troubled Anri looked, she cracked a smile and said, “Or if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s cool. All girls have their secrets, after all.”

“That’s right. Even if you were a wicked demon lord plotting world domination, I bet we could treat you the same way we always have! In fact, a cute demon lord with glasses might make me want to get closer than—mlph!”

Kadota put his hand over Yumasaki’s mouth to shut him up and asked Anri, “What’s up? Looking for something?”

“Uh…sorry…,” Anri mumbled and bowed. She swiveled around on the spot.

“I don’t see…Mikado anywhere…”

On the street, next to Raira Academy Field Two

“Hey Rocchi, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I feel amazing. Your gentle caresses healed all my wounds, Non.”

“You liar. I hope Kiyo-puu or one of them chew you out again tomorrow, Rocchi,” Non protested, her cheeks flushed.

Chikage smirked. “If I kiss you, will you forgive me? Will Kiyo-puu forgive me, too?”

“I think you should probably just die.”

The couple walked along the narrow street toward the train station, flirting and pretend-arguing.

Chikage had already sent the Toramaru guys back home. Some of them had gotten knocked out at the abandoned factory, but the healthy ones collected them up, and Kadota was informed that they were leaving, thus ending the day’s hostilities.

It was hard to believe that the couple had been in the midst of violence and danger just minutes before.

They were interrupted by a youthful voice.

“H-hey, wait!”

“Hmm…?”

Chikage looked back and saw a boy standing in the middle of the alley, out of breath, bruised and beaten. “What’s up, kid? Coming back from a fight?” he asked.

He looked like he was either in middle school or early high school. Chikage had no idea what he was after, but he stopped and faced the boy.

Despite the unhealthy paleness in his cheeks, the boy looked at Chikage with bold intent and spoke.

“…I will…take responsibility.”

“Huh? For what?” the leader of Toramaru asked. Mikado tried to respond, but—

“Oh, Rocchi! That’s the kid I mentioned. The one who tried to save me, even though he was in the Dollars.”

“…!”

Non’s statement caused Mikado to close his mouth.

“Ah, gotcha… So you’re taking responsibility ’cause you couldn’t protect Non? That don’t matter. If anything, I wanna thank you.”

“N-no…it’s not…it’s not that!” Mikado protested. He summoned strength from the pit of his stomach. “I’m…I…I founded the Dollars.”

“…What?”

“I know what the Dollars did…to you and your friends… So the root cause of this whole war was me! So go ahead…do whatever you want to me. Just…please don’t mess with Ikebukuro anymore! I’m begging you…!”

Mikado was half expecting to be killed on the spot, such was the measure of his determination. He started to get down on the ground to prostrate himself.

But then Chikage’s hand grabbed his arm.

“Stop it. A man shouldn’t just grovel like that. Especially not in front of a woman—even if she’s already my girl.”

“…B-but…”

“You think this doesn’t make me look like a chump, having a kid begging to me like I’m a big shot, while I’m out with my girlfriend? And besides…you really expect me to believe a scrawny-lookin’ kid like you is the leader of the Dollars?”

“…”

Those words gouged at Mikado’s heart with their painful truth. He stared forward, holding his silence, and Chikage grinned a bit.

“But you don’t look like you’re lyin’ to me.”

“Th-then…”

“However. That doesn’t mean I can just take you at your word.”

“Huh…?”

“In my mind, the guy who started the Dollars is a real piece of shit who stays out of danger, watches his team grow, and pits them against one another…treats it like it’s all a big game.”

Mikado fell silent again; he wasn’t sure what that accusation meant. But the concept of a scumbag treating it all like a game was a shock to him. He realized that perhaps there was a part of that inside him.

Chikage put a hand on Mikado’s shoulder. He spoke slowly, letting his message sink in.

“There’s no way a guy with eyes this honest is the head of the Dollars.”

“…!”

“If you’re sayin’ you were actually the ‘start’ of the Dollars…then I got a warning for you. Let them go now. You’re too pure to shoulder that load.”

“Wha…?”

“The ordinary life suits you, kid. From my perspective, just bein’ able to live the proper life makes you worthy of respect… Guys like you shouldn’t be goin’ out of their way to come to this side.”

Did Chikage realize what he was saying, or was it all just a coincidence? His words were a blunt denial of Mikado’s entire existence. The boy could say nothing.

Before he left, Chikage said, “But if that doesn’t work for you, come to Saitama. You wanna go one-on-one, I’ll be there… Well, as long as I don’t have a girl with me. In either case, I’m not into hitting defenseless folks.”

Mikado watched him go—and never found a response.

He had no answer.

He didn’t understand the emotion flooding up inside of him.

He almost identified it as “frustration,” but he was so afraid to face that truth that he emptied his mind instead and stared into the sky.

Objectively, Mikado’s silence lasted less than a minute.

But to him, it felt like a compression of hours, days—even months of time.

If he admitted it to himself, his life would change. And that knowledge required enough mental fortitude that it squashed all that time into just a few seconds.

No…I wasn’t afraid of the Dollars changing and leaving me behind.

I was afraid of this city leaving me behind.

He crossed to the side of the street, rested an arm on a nearby light pole, and buried his face in his elbow.

But…I made a terrible mistake.

Before he faced off with Chikage, Mikado checked the latest Dollars update on his phone.

It said that the various squabbles around the area were being forcibly ended by the sudden arrival of Awakusu-kai muscle.

Most likely, some in the Awakusu got wind of the information and decided to clean up the incident before any of it made its way upward, like swatting at pesky flies.

In the end, all the trouble that surrounded them was essentially ordinary business for the adults in the Awakusu-kai, lurking deeper than the Dollars ever could.

That was what Mikado thought.

What he assumed.

It was my imagination that the city was passing me by.

I never caught up to the extraordinary parts of this city to begin with.

He just stood there, alone, tears flowing.

He bit his lip, stifling the sobs down in his throat.

And the boy cried amid the city of Ikebukuro, as though trying to devour all the sadness himself.

There was just one person watching him.

Mikado…

One young man who watched the boy from behind, fists clenched.

A youth about the same age as him: Masaomi Kida.

It was half coincidence that brought him to be present for this moment and half fate.

He had returned to Ikebukuro to assist his old friend Mikado from the trouble that plagued him. Through some connections, he found out what was happening with the Dollars and rushed to Raira Academy Field Two.

Somehow, he happened across that very scene between Mikado and Chikage on the way.

Masaomi hid around the corner out of sight, watching them. He heard Mikado’s statement of intent and the conversation that followed, and it made it impossible for him to emerge.

When Mikado put his arm against the pole in silence, Masaomi knew that he was crying.

He sensed the same amount of sadness in his friend that he felt when he himself was leader of the Yellow Scarves.

And that was why he couldn’t go to him. He knew that if he tried to speak to Mikado, to comfort him, it would only add more pressure.

If there was anyone Mikado wanted to see least at that moment, it would be Masaomi or Anri Sonohara.

Seeing himself in Mikado’s shoes, he wanted to rush to his friend, to say something that would make him feel better. It seemed that if anyone could do it, it would be him.

But ultimately, he couldn’t show himself to Mikado.

He had run out on his friend already. What could he possibly say that was meaningful now?

If he said something careless, gave some false reassurance, it would hurt Mikado far worse than he already was now.

…I’m not the place Mikado needs to return to now.

It’s Sonohara. It’s Raira Academy.

Masaomi had rushed back to the city for a singular purpose—and now he cast it aside and turned his back on Mikado.

All I can do now is wait for him to recover…and then…talk to him…

Shit, that’s not right. That’s not right.

I was just want…to be with him and Anri…like old days…

…Dammit. Why…why am I…?

He recalled his own sadness from the past…

And the next thing he knew, Masaomi was tearing up, too.

That was the end of the scene.

Ultimately, Masaomi was unable to reunite with his friends.

Most likely, if he had shown himself just then, it would have hurt Mikado terribly. Perhaps it would have pushed their friendship even further apart.

But considering what would happen later, even knowing it would hurt Mikado and destroy his presence of mind, maybe Masaomi should have said something after all.

Masaomi himself would understand this later.

But of course, later is not now.

Chat room

Saika has entered the chat.

Saika: no one is here today

Saika: it’s lonely

Saika: sorry for saying weird things

Saika: i’m sorry

Saika has left the chat.

The chat room is currently empty.

The chat room is currently empty.

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