Durarara!! - Volume 8 - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Vicissitudes @ Dullahan Rider

Kanto region, night

A number of cars raced along a seaside road.

The black vehicles had tinted windows, preventing anyone from knowing what was happening inside.

Yet following them was a single motorcycle. This one hung far behind the others, the rider clad in a suit that was even darker than the night. The lone rider trailing the caravan ahead drove at a speed well over the legal limit.

The chase might have been a scene from an action movie were it not for a few details that put it into a different genre.

For one, the motorcycle made no engine noise, only the occasional roar like a horse whinnying. For another, there was no headlight or license plate on the bike, which, like its rider, was completely black, of a shade that seemed to suck in all light.

Lastly, the figure riding the bike was holding an enormous pitch-black scythe that spanned at least six feet.

A reaper’s motorcycle that came to life from shadow art, it was ready to drag in the cars up ahead back into the world of darkness.

So if one focused primarily on the bike, it was more like a scene out of a horror movie.

There was no headlight to illuminate the way, but the vehicle found itself easily closing the gap.

No cars came the other way. Perhaps the road was little used.

This dramatic chase continued for a while until, just as the motorcycle was about to catch up to the last car in the row, one of the vehicles began to slow until it came level with the bike, window rolling down.

A red-painted bowgun emerged from the black maw of the window. It fired immediately at the rider’s chest.

But just before the arrow could land, the rider’s body produced a black shadow that grabbed it and transformed into a bow of its own, then shot the projectile back.

It stuck into the arm of the man inside the window, who shrieked.

Suddenly, another car slowed to approach the bike, and from this open window, a flaming bottle came hurtling. Again, the rider’s shadowy “suit” grabbed the Molotov, holding it in the air within a black froth that sucked the oxygen free until the flame went out.

The bottle flew back into the car from where it came, landing on the hand of a man in the act of pulling out a black pistol. He fired at that very moment, while his hand holding the gun burst into vivid flames.

That car slammed into a guardrail and came to a stop, screams coming from the interior. The rider continued forward into the center of the group of vehicles.

Suddenly, the lead vehicle changed directions and headed from the road toward the warehouses along the seaside.

The bike kept pace, chasing along after that lead car, when—

From the far end of the warehouse district came a massive explosion—and the appearance of a helicopter.

It was a small three-seater, not some massive military chopper, but it was still not the sort of vehicle that an individual simply owned.

The helicopter’s spotlight caught the silent rider, marking it clearly as it raced between the warehouse buildings.

Next, one of the men on the aircraft pointed a submachine gun at the motorcycle and opened fire. Like the helicopter itself, his attack was undisciplined and clearly nonmilitary; the man was spraying fire in a vain attempt to hit the shadow cyclist.

But even those shots from the hail of bullets that did land accurately were swallowed up by the rider’s scythe, which had transformed into an umbrella. The bullets simply sank into the black mass without deflecting away.

A number of bullets that missed their mark hit the lead car’s door and tires, sending the orderly line of vehicles into a swerving frenzy.

The shooter on the helicopter paused then, realizing the effect his gunfire was having, and instead pulled a pin from a hand grenade and tossed it down at the black motorcycle.

When the rider recognized the nature of the small rolling object, it toppled the bike sideways to evade—but the projectile exploded too quickly, and the blast tossed the small vehicle into the water across from the warehouses.

“All right! Yeah, in your face!” crowed the helicopter’s gunman, preparing to fire some more into the sea—when he noticed something amiss.

The motorcycle had fallen into the water with a suspiciously small and quiet splash. The surface of the night sea caught the spotlight and threw it back, making it impossible to see down into the water.

He was squinting to get a better look, when the anomaly registered not in his eyes, but his ears.

That horse whinnying that the bike made instead of an engine roar was coming up from the sea.

“Wha…?”

It wasn’t his mind playing tricks.

The shooter and pilot both stared, wide-eyed. An even more bizarre sight burned its way into their retinas.

A huge, singular shadow emerged from the water as thick as a tanker truck.

It stretched and stretched through the air, yawning its wide mouth in the direction of the helicopter and cars like a black dragon—until the black motorcycle shot from the opening.

In other words, just before the motorcycle would have fallen into the water, it created a tunnel of shadow that churned through the sea like a mole burrow before it came up to breach the surface again.

The shooter in the helicopter screamed and tried to spray more gunfire, unable to believe what he was seeing, but his magazine promptly ran out, and he had to exchange it for a fresh one.

That was plenty of time for the rider. Its shadow extended to the front car of the escaping line, engulfing the whole body with a black wave.

When darkness covered the windshield, the driver could no longer see and tried to swerve away, but the shadow grabbed at the tires as well, essentially forcing the car into emergency braking.

But that was only the start.

Now rooted to the car, the shadow bulged and grew like a tree, its branches reaching up to the helicopter directly overhead. The darkness clung to the blades and gently slowed their rotation.

The craft rocked, turning slowly, and looked poised to fall and crash—until the shadow tree grabbed the body with countless more branches and held it in place, creating a massive new sculpture that loomed over the warehouse district.

“…”

The rider stopped the bike just in front of the giant tree, then added shadow stairs that climbed the trunk up toward the tangled helicopter. Once at the cabin, the rider pulled the SMG from the unconscious shooter’s hands and turned to walk back down.

“W-wait…you monster… Why didn’t you let us fall?” groaned the pilot, glaring at his attacker.

The rider pulled a PDA out of its chest and showed the LCD screen to the pilot.

“Well, if I let you crash, you’d have died, right?”

“…Uh, what?”

“I don’t want to get in trouble with the cops for excessive self-defense. Besides, I’m not an assassin or a serial killer, so I’d feel terrible about it. Also, I saw on TV recently that these small helicopters cost like forty million yen? I mean, I know it doesn’t belong to me, but it’d be such a waste to crash it.”

For having just exhibited such ghastly, inhuman powers, the rider’s statement was both painfully human and even a little…frugal?

The shadow rider looked at the pilot’s face and seemed to hit on an idea.

“Well, if you’re not unconscious, I guess I can just ask you.

“Where’s the ‘Hakujoushi’ you kidnapped?”

Two hours later, mansion, Tokyo area

“Hakujoushi! Yay! You’re all right!”

A young girl raced over to the rider and a brilliant white snake—and clung happily to the reptile.

The force of this embrace would be enough to snap the backbone of a thin snake, but this white one was as thick as a beer bottle and big enough to strangle the girl if it felt so inclined.

But the white snake merely licked at the girl’s cheek gently, its big eyes shining.

“Thank you, courier! You saved Hakujoushi for me!” raved the girl, the snake still flicking her cheek with its tongue.

The courier—Celty Sturluson—typed back a “You’re welcome” message.

“Thank you so very much.”

“We don’t know how to thank you…”

“It’s just my job. I delivered them to the police already, so if you submit a stolen car report, they should wind up in jail.”

She took a thick envelope from the girl’s parents, waved to her and the snake, then left the mansion.

Celty had received the wealthy couple’s request to save their daughter’s kidnapped pet, but she hadn’t imagined at the time that it would involve a vehicle chase with helicopters and guns.

After Celty questioned them, she learned the thieves were after a different type of property, but they stole the entire moving truck, which just so happened to contain the pet in transit.

The fact that the wealthy couple had sought Celty’s assistance rather than the police’s suggested to her that perhaps the snake was being kept in violation of some law or regulation, but she did her best not to think about it.

I wonder, if my existence was admitted officially by the world at large, would I be put on the endangered species list? It’s usually the person who discovers the species whose name ends up being attached. I guess that would make me Celty Kishitani.

Hee-hee. That makes it sound like I got married and changed my name, she thought blissfully. But then she turned her attention to the snake that she’d just brought here in her cage of shadow.

Hakujoushi is a pretty wild name for a pet, though. I wonder if they named it after “Hakujaden,” the Chinese legend of the white snake. Or maybe they took it from the Megami Tensei series…

Hakujoushi was the name of a snake monster from China. A thousand-year-old white snake turned into a beautiful woman in an attempt to seduce the man it loved. By the end of the story, the monster is revealed and locked away—but among the various evolutions of the legend over the years, some had a happy ending where human and monster fell in love.

Celty revved her bike, thinking dreamily of the classic tale of interspecies marriage.

A story of love between human and monster.

Just like me and Shinra.

Celty Sturluson was not human.

She was a type of fairy commonly known as a dullahan, found from Scotland to Ireland—a being that visits the homes of those close to death to inform them of their impending mortality.

The dullahan carried its own severed head under its arm, rode on a two-wheeled carriage called a Coiste Bodhar pulled by a headless horse, and approached the homes of the soon to die. Anyone foolish enough to open the door was drenched with a basin full of blood. Thus the dullahan, like the banshee, made its name as a herald of ill fortune throughout European folklore.

One theory claimed that the dullahan bore a strong resemblance to the Norse Valkyrie, but Celty had no way of knowing if this was true.

It wasn’t that she didn’t know. More accurately, she just couldn’t remember.

When someone in her homeland stole her head, she also lost her memories. It was the search for the faint trail of her head that had brought her here to Ikebukuro.

Now with a motorcycle instead of a headless horse and a riding suit instead of armor, she had wandered the streets of this neighborhood for decades.

But ultimately, she had not succeeded in retrieving her head, and her memories were still missing.

However, Celty knew who stole her head.

She also knew who was preventing her from finding it.

But ultimately, that didn’t mean that she knew its location.

And she was fine with that.

As long as she could live with those human beings she loved and who accepted her, she could enjoy being alive the way she was now.

She was a headless woman who let her actions speak for her missing face and held this strong, secret desire within her heart.

That was Celty Sturluson in a nutshell.

The “freakish” woman realized that she was daydreaming about her lover and willed herself to concentrate on the road.

She revved the engine, which produced the sound of a horse whinnying, and reflected on the day’s job.

Who could have guessed that tracking down an abducted pet would lead to the destruction of an entire criminal enterprise? I’m glad I got them all tied up and presented to the cops, guns included…but more importantly, that was my first time facing a helicopter. It actually wasn’t that bad. I felt like I was Angelina Jolie for a moment.

To her foes, she wasn’t an action star, but more like Jason, Freddy, or a Xenomorph. That didn’t bother Celty in the least, though. She happily pulled her Coiste Bodhar up into a wheelie.

The sight of a horse rearing back and whinnying at the moon spooked the drivers of nearby cars, who all found reasons to move away from her…but Celty failed to notice a shadow approaching the eerie Headless Rider.

“Yo, No-Head.”

The deep male voice rose above the growl of the bike engine and rattled around inside Celty’s helmet.

As her entire being turned to ice, she slowly focused in the direction of the voice.

There was the familiar man she always swore she never wanted to see again: the officer on the police motorcycle, Kinnosuke Kuzuhara.

“What was that, a two-hundred-foot wheelie? You realize you can’t give the old ‘my front tire slipped and came off the ground’ excuse for that, right? And that’s the least of your problems.”

…?!

The instant he stopped talking, fear exploded inside of Celty. Sensing the shift, her Coiste Bodhar leaped forward, picking up speed.

I’m s-s-s-s-s-s-sorry! I’m sorry! she chanted in her mind, terror rattling her being in a way that even the barrel of the submachine gun did not inspire—and kicking off a brand-new chase scene.

Only this time, she was the frightened girl on the run from the monster.

One week later, near Kawagoe Highway, top floor of luxury apartment building

“I was scared, so scared… I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Celty typed into her PDA as she slumped onto the shoulder of Shinra Kishitani, her roommate.

The Black Rider didn’t need to breathe physiologically, but she made motions like she was heaving against his shoulder and trembled incessantly.

“How? How is that biker cop able to evade all my shadows?! I stretched out just like I did with the helicopter, but the motorcycle just tilted sideways and passed between them. He even chased after me by riding on the midair shadows I sent from my hand!”

Celty raced all through Tokyo, then leaped into the river next to Ochanomizu Station and created a shadow tunnel through the water, like she did against the helicopter. That, at least, was enough to shake off the biker cop, but by the time she got home to Shinra, she collapsed into his arms.

As had become the routine after every Kuzuhara chase, Shinra rubbed Celty’s back before she could have a full-blown panic attack. He said, “It’s probably intuition and experience. Someone at his level who can keep calm can probably see all your shadows coming before it happens.”

“But being able to predict them doesn’t mean being able to ride on them! When he did that, I sent a tendril from another shadow to try to tangle up his tires, and he used his headlight to blind me and simply vanished the next moment!”

“So you can be blinded by brightness, even without eyes?”

“It’s not like squeezing your eyelids shut, but it’s still difficult to see when there’s a bright light shining on you… But enough about theory! What should I do, Shinra? Do you think if I attach a headlight and plate—which Shooter will hate—he’ll leave me alone from now on?”

She had to be delirious from fear still. Shinra watched her babble on nonsensically, blushed over how cute he found it, and told her, “Settle down, Celty. Either way, that won’t work once they decide to run your plate number or ask for your license. Anyway, hurry up and get yourself together. You’ve got a guest.”

“?”

A guest? For me?

Curiosity helped Celty regain some measure of rationality, and she saw a pair of women’s shoes in the entrance.

Then she glanced down the hallway and saw, bowing from the doorway, the figure of Anri Sonohara.

At that moment, Ikebukuro

In a completely normal office building, fairly removed from the center of Ikebukuro…

There were a variety of signs on the outside, from a private investigator to a dating website office to a hookup hotline to a marriage arrangement business to a loan shark office to a real estate agent—all manner of businesses, but as a matter of fact, the second floor up through the top were all interconnected companies.

Depending on the circumstances, the various offices would move from floor to floor, such that the building on the whole operated as one general conglomerate.

Up on the top floor, in an ordinary office, three people returned from their rounds and started packing up to go home.

“Dammit, you just had to rip out that traffic mirror. You’re lucky we were able to fix it—but what if some poor kid got into an accident because of that?”

“Sorry, I kinda lost it for a second…”

“Speaking of kids, that just floored me today. How does an elementary school kid rack up five hundred thousand yen of charges to a dating site?” wondered the dreadlocked Tom Tanaka.

The blond man next to him, Shizuo Heiwajima, merely grunted, “Yeah, I know.”

Standing behind them was a Russian woman, Vorona, who looked curious. “Negative. Payment was extracted smoothly from the parents. Lack of any physical trouble or combat.”

“No,” Tom said with a sigh. “I didn’t mean it like they literally knocked me to the floor, see…”

It seemed like the usual end-of-work routine of any other day, until a female desk employee on an internal line pressed the hold button and called out, “Mr. Heiwajima, you have a visitor. They’ve been sent to the reception room.”

“Oh? Uh…okay.” Surprised, he headed toward the reception area near the front of the office, which was separated by a standing screen.

“A visitor for Shizuo?” Tom wondered. “That’s rare.”

“Searching possibilities. Perhaps a complaint for the forklift destroyed three days ago.”

“Nah, the boss cleared that one up… Oh, maybe we didn’t really fix the traffic mirror after all?”

Tom and Vorona approached the screen, too curious to resist the topic, and peered into the reception area. They found Shizuo wearing a very unnatural smile—and a handsome young man with an utterly flat expression devoid of all emotion.

“Whoa, now there’s a face you don’t see every day. No wonder they let him pass right into the office,” murmured Tom.

“On the contrary, it is a face seen every day. On television and posters,” Vorona replied.

She had a point, in fact. The face was very familiar to anyone who watched a regular amount of TV.

“What’s up, Kasuka? Why are you here?”

“I said I’d wait until you finished with work… It’s not a problem, is it?”

“Oh, it’s totally fine. I was actually just leaving for the day. So what’s up?” asked Shizuo, more cheerful than usual now that he was talking to his younger brother, Kasuka Heiwajima.

Still emotionless, Kasuka looked back at the entrance of the office. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something… First, there’s someone I want to introduce you to. Should we go somewhere else, maybe?”

“Nah, here is fine. Are they waiting outside or something?”

“Yeah…there are reasons.”

Kasuka smoothly made his way to the entrance and opened the door into the hallway. Through it walked a hooded girl, who timidly set foot inside the office.

“Um, it’s…nice to meet you…,” she said, her voice faint as she bowed. She was a coworker of Kasuka—Yuuhei Hanejima—with rather mysterious eyes.

“…! Whoa, isn’t that Ruri Hijiribe?”

“Affirmative. Matches facial photograph from celebrity yearbook inside my memory,” Vorona told Tom. Quiet murmurs arose from around them.

“No way… Is that really her?”

“I just bought two copies of her photo book…”

“And is that the real Yuuhei Hanejima?! Hey, can I take a picture?!”

“I want an autograph.”

“Can I shake her hand?”

“If he’s Heiwajima’s brother, does that mean he’s a good fighter, too?”

“Isn’t Ruri Hijiribe amazing?! I guess it’s true that she’s just as hot without makeup!”

“Whew!”

Tom turned around and saw a small crowd gathering near the screen—it was the entire remaining staff in the office, all leaning up against the partition. In fact, it was more than just this office; somehow, people from other floors of the building had heard the news and come up to mingle.

“What the hell are you people doing?! Get lost! Go on! Get back to work!” Tom hissed, figuring that Shizuo would snap if he found out. He decided that he ought to clear out and go back to his desk for safety, too.

Vorona was the only one who still kept her back to the screen, assuming a ninja position as she eavesdropped on the reception area. She probably figured that she would listen in and try to learn some weakness of Shizuo’s through his family connections.

But to everyone else watching, the assumption was a much more peaceful and heartwarming one: “Oh, if she’s curious about Shizuo’s family, it must be because she likes him…”

“Oh…I’ve seen you in magazines or whatever. You’re, um…,” Shizuo started to say.

“Someone important to me,” Yuuhei finished simply.

“…Right, that,” Shizuo mumbled and examined Ruri Hijiribe again. “Is she trembling?”

Yuuhei answered, “Ruri’s seen you fight up close before. Just recently.”

“Wha—?!”

Shizuo flinched awkwardly. He’d never heard such a convincing reason for someone to be afraid before. A few seconds later he returned to Ruri and said, “Uh, well…s-sorry about that.”

“Oh n-no, it’s all right! I’m sorry, actually.”

A few months earlier, after having seen Shizuo from a proximity close enough for him to smash her with a bench, Ruri had developed a subconscious fear of him. But she couldn’t explain that to him now. Yuuhei had told her that his brother would understand if they just explained the situation properly, but deep down, she really wanted more time to work herself up to that point.

Shizuo could sense something more than simple fear in her reaction and noted it with curiosity but didn’t push the matter. He sighed and said to Yuuhei, “Uh, listen…it’s nice of you to run things by me and all, but shouldn’t you report to Dad and Mom first of all…? In fact, people make a big enough deal about you admitting the relationship. If this is about marriage, won’t that kick up a fuss?”

“Actually, that’s not what we wanted to talk to you about.”

“Huh? What is it, then?”

Yuuhei told him in his flat, mechanical voice:

“Do you know about…the Dollars?”

Shinra’s apartment

“Um…I’m sorry to barge in on you like this.”

Anri Sonohara bowed and apologized repeatedly from a dining room chair, glasses glinting in the light. Celty shook her helmet back and forth and held out her PDA.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure Shinra lured you in here.”

“Lured her in! Celty, that’s so cruel! You make it sound like I was trying to cheat on you! They say that ‘a fallen blossom doesn’t return to the branch, and a broken mirror cannot shine,’ but I would never knock your flower off the branch, nor would I break any mirror that reflects your beauty!”

His answer was as nonsensical as always, and Celty could do nothing but shrug her shoulders in annoyance.

According to her story, Anri had been wandering around the town, considering if she should ask Celty something, when Shinra had passed by and called out to her.

“Anri, you really shouldn’t follow suspicious men like him around.”

“Okay, before I offer a rebuttal, I need to say this. For whatever reason, hearing Celty call me suspicious really doesn’t feel that bad. I suppose the word suspicious contains some hint of mystery and eroticism—babufh!”

“Why would you talk about that in front of a teenage girl?” Celty demanded, as Shinra doubled over following the knee to his gut.

The woman turned back to Anri and asked, “What did you want to discuss?”

“Well…it’s about Mikado…”

“Ah, you want romantic advice? Asking me and Celty might not be the right decision, then. We are in such a torrid state of constant love and perfect equilibrium, you see. I’m afraid we might not be much help when it comes to repairing an upset relationship.”

“N-no, Mikado and I aren’t like that,” Anri protested, her face going red.

Celty quickly covered Shinra’s mouth with her shadows.

Well, it’s quite obvious from a glance that Mikado’s rather smitten with her…but while he might have a shot, their situation seems rather delicate and complex, so it’s probably best not to set things off.

She waited for Anri to raise her head again so that she could show her a message on the PDA.

“What is it about Mikado, then?”

“Oh yes… Um…I’m not really sure how best to say this, but…Mikado’s been acting strange recently.”

“Acting strange? Like he’s low energy or going on about odd things…?”

“No, just the opposite… He’s gotten very bright and lively and happy,” Anri replied. She seemed to be unsure if she should continue, but her willpower eventually won out.

“Just like…when Kida was around.”

Half a day earlier

“Ah, Sonohara. Congrats on making it to the end of the year!”

Mikado spotted Anri at the class representatives’ meeting just after the end-of-year ceremony.

“Congratulations to you, too,” she said quietly, bowing her head meekly in stark contrast to Mikado’s crisp greeting.

“You got any plans for summer vacation, Sonohara?”

“Uh…w-well, no major plans…”

“Ahh. Well, if you’re ever bored, just hit me up.”

“Uh…okay.”

Normally, such an invitation would be a delight. A year ago, she wouldn’t quite know how to respond, but since getting to know Mikado, Masaomi, and Celty, Anri Sonohara could tell that a part of her was changing.

So she should have been able to smile and accept his offer with an open heart—but a different reason was preventing her from doing that now.

There was simply something wrong with the way Mikado was acting these days.

A number of interrelated incidents had happened during Golden Week, the weeklong string of holidays in May.

A mysterious woman had ambushed her on two consecutive days, for one—but Anri was more worried about the injury Mikado had suffered at the hands of a youth gang.

When she’d leaped to his aid, she was afraid that he’d seen her using her katana.

She’d been spotted with a katana before that as well, when she rescued Masaomi Kida from a mutiny within his own gang, the Yellow Scarves. But this could have been a much more direct and damning witness.

Her sword was the cursed blade Saika, a being that dwelled within her body and continuously chanted words of love. That made her alien and inhuman, just like Celty, and she was worried that this revelation might cause Mikado to reject her. But on the contrary, he hadn’t mentioned it once since the holiday ended.

Yet that was not a source of relief. The incident had changed Mikado.

He was back, you might say. That desperation to act cheerful in the wake of Masaomi Kida’s absence was no longer there.

She didn’t notice for the first few days, because she was more preoccupied with concern for his injury and worry that he’d be terrified of her freakish nature…but eventually, she realized that the occasional hints of uncertainty and regret that she’d caught on Mikado’s face since Masaomi had left were no longer surfacing.

There was purpose and vitality in Mikado’s smile, his words, and his actions—as if he’d just found his reason for living.

That should have been a good thing.

But clearly, it wasn’t that Mikado had forgotten about Masaomi or was totally over him.

She almost wondered if he had reunited with the boy somewhere, so she had asked him if something good had happened recently.

But when Mikado replied with a joke of the kind he never usually told (“I guess you could say talking with you is a good thing!”), that only underlined Anri’s feeling of unease.

Something happened during that incident… But they do say that people grow over time… Maybe I’m just getting the wrong idea…

Anri was shy and reserved by nature, so she couldn’t come out and say, “You’re acting strange these days.” Instead, she had simply continued her high school life with this strange feeling eating away at her.

She watched the world objectively through the picture frame.

Perhaps this unique mental position of hers was what allowed Anri to recognize that the particular painting she liked so much had developed a different coloring.

Anri had sensed that something was wrong as summer vacation began, but it wasn’t until Mikado’s parting statement that day that she recognized her unease was stemming from an actual anomaly.

On the way home from school, at the place where they usually split off for their respective homes, Mikado had sported a more serious look on his face. He turned to her and said, “Hey, Sonohara.”

“Huh? Y-yes?”

They’d been chatting idly the whole time, so the look in his eyes took her aback—but that was nothing compared to her surprise at his following words.

“Whatever secrets you have, I don’t mind.”

“…Huh?”

What?

“Sure, maybe I can’t really be a source of support to you…”

What is Mikado…talking about?

Mikado Ryuugamine.

Masaomi Kida.

And Anri Sonohara.

Each of the three had a secret.

Mikado was founder of the Dollars.

Masaomi was founder of the Yellow Scarves and its central figure.

Anri housed an inhuman being inside of her named Saika.

Anri had learned Masaomi’s secret, and Masaomi had heard about Mikado’s status from the info broker.

Now Mikado seemed on the verge of discovering Anri’s secret, enacting a strange three-way relationship.

Anri was close to learning Mikado’s status, but she wasn’t attempting to get to the bottom of it.

There was a tacit understanding between the two: They would only reveal their respective secrets to each other when Masaomi came back.

But now Mikado was coming close to broaching the subject of Anri’s secret. In a roundabout way, he was reaching for the inner parts of her heart.

“…But no matter what you are, I’m sure that I can help create a place just for you.”

“…”

She had wanted to say something, to ask something, but she couldn’t find the words.

Did he take her silence as discomfort? Mikado’s smile had grown even brighter and more confident.

“I’m going to make it so Masaomi can come back,” he finished. “I’ll make a place for everyone…so there’s no need for you to worry.”

No.

Deep down beneath her hesitation, Anri denied Mikado’s words.

She recalled something Mikado had said months ago.

“He’ll come back.”

“Oh…?”

“I’ve known Masaomi since we were young. He’ll absolutely come back.”

“Um,” Anri stammered, clearly troubled.

Mikado had come to his senses and said, “Oh, s-sorry. That was weird of me… Well, get in touch if you need anything!”

He had hurried away to hide his sudden embarrassment. Anri had still been upset, but she never attempted to stop him from leaving.

Something’s…wrong.

That was all Anri knew, all she could tell herself as she had wandered through the shopping district of Ikebukuro.

On multiple occasions, she had thought of asking Celty for advice, but at each instance, she decided that it wasn’t right to get the woman involved in her personal matter and closed her flip phone.

Just as she was deciding to head back home, someone called out to her from behind.

In the end, the thing that had pushed Anri Sonohara to consult with Celty…

“Hey, is that you, Anri? How’s Saika doing these days?”

…was an extremely forward and indelicate statement from a man in a white lab coat.

Now, back to the present.

“Earlier, he believed that Kida would come back on his own, but now Mikado’s talking about creating a place for Kida to return to… It just feels so strange…”

She wasn’t sure how to phrase her feelings. But the only way to get to the bottom of the vague haze of wrongness was to review the day’s events in fine detail.

“I see. So rather than believing in his friend, he’s believing in his own power.”

“You’re right, that doesn’t sound like Mikado,” Celty typed before folding her arms in thought.

Usually making an effort on your own is a positive thing… Why does this strike me as odd? Plus, the part about it starting after Golden Week is troubling… I have a bad feeling about this.

I wonder… Did something happen between him and that Aoba Kuronuma boy?

The one idea that floated into Celty’s head brought her back to the final night of Golden Week.

It was right after she and Shinra had gotten home from their little vacation.

May 5, night

“I’ve come here…to be friends with you two.”

A boy named Aoba Kuronuma had stopped Celty and Shinra on the way home late at night.

“How did you find out about this place?” Celty asked.

Aoba smirked. “A lot of it was simple coincidence. But don’t worry. I’m not going to tell the police about it.”

The mention of the word police brought to mind the face of a particular motorcycle cop, causing a shiver to run down Celty’s back.

“I’m not sure what’s going on here. Do you mind if I ask?” said Shinra to the boy, stepping forward to protect Celty. “You said you wanted to be friends, but coming over to a person’s house before that point is really rather rude of you. Perhaps it was through great personal toil and turmoil that you found this apartment, but you do realize that we might not necessarily value that hard work,” he added smoothly.

Aoba shrugged and answered, “Yes, I know it’s rude. But I doubt I could have gotten any closer to the legendary Headless Rider any other way.”

“I’m not interested in getting closer to anyone who would cause trouble with biker gangs like Toramaru. Besides, didn’t you consider the possibility that I’d just silence you for good?”

“Ah, right. You heard my conversation with Mikado, right?” Aoba smiled, leaning against the hallway wall and narrowing his eyes. “You can’t really silence me. My friends all know this location, too. If I go missing, the cops and tabloids will descend on this place like an avalanche. Then again, it might go up in flames before that.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No, sorry. I’m not intending to push you around. I’m just like Mikado… I want to get closer to you and the people around you, that’s all.”

He’s lying. He’s aiming for something after we get to know each other, Celty’s instincts told her. She considered how to proceed.

But the first one to act was Shinra, taking another step forward as he adjusted his glasses. He stared closely at the boy’s face, gave a faint smile, and said, “You’re just like Izaya Orihara.”

“…I’m offended that you would compare me to him,” spat Aoba, his cocky confidence instantly gone at the mention of that name, a scowl now on his face.

Clearly satisfied with himself, Shinra’s cold smile grew. He leaned in closer. “Yes, I said that assuming that if you knew him, you’d be upset. And as I suspected, you do know about Izaya. Let me guess: Did he put you through some painful experience in the past?”

“…What makes you say that?”

“Because your methods are exactly like his. It was less of a coincidence and more of a familiar tip-off, you might say. But I didn’t say you were a copycat. I think your nature is exactly like his, from the foundation.”

“…Well, geez. Not only does the Black Rider know him, but so does the cohabitant.” Aoba glared back at Shinra, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with his assessment.

“Hatred of one’s own kind, they call it. Both you and Izaya are the type who get annoyed when the world doesn’t dance in the palm of your hand. Of course, someone like that isn’t going to be happy about a kindred spirit moving in. After all, if the world is dancing on someone else’s palm, how will it dance on yours? You’re such greedy people. The only thing I want to hold in my palm is Celty’s hand.”

“? …!”

Aoba tried to bite back his words, unsure what Shinra meant by that. He found the answer along with a small pain down the nape of his neck.

When did he take that out of his bag? There was a sharp scalpel in Shinra’s hand now, its end pressed to the back of Aoba’s neck. Just a little bit of pressure, and he could easily slide it around into the flesh of his throat and sever his carotid artery.

“Here’s a warning.”

Shinra’s face was no different than usual. He had that simpering, lackadaisical look, all the while holding the means to easily end the boy’s life.

“I don’t care what you and Izaya get up to plotting. But if you think you’re going to destroy the happy life that Celty and I have here, you will make yourself a sworn enemy for life.”

Meanwhile, despite that imminent threat, Aoba showed no signs of fear. He even smiled a bit as he looked back at Shinra. However, a shimmer of sweat had risen on his palms and forehead.

“…I see. So you have that kind of relationship with the Black Rider.”

Black shadows snuck in between the two men and pulled them apart in an attempt to diffuse the danger in the air.

“Knock it off, Shinra. It would be stupid to commit murder over this.”

“But, Celty—”

“I don’t want you to turn this into a police matter and leave me all alone. Also, I refuse to let you commit a horrible crime for my sake.”

“…Celty!”

As a matter of fact, Shinra was a criminal just for being a black market doctor, but that fact didn’t register in his mind at all. He looked at Celty with the sparkling eyes of a child.

Aoba couldn’t see the messages on her PDA, so he didn’t realize what an obnoxiously private conversation they were having. He could, however, sense that the imminent danger from Shinra was gone.

“I don’t know what you two are talking about, but you don’t have to treat this like some huge thing. I apologize if I’ve upset you in any way… All I want is an e-mail address where I can contact you, and then I’ll back down.

“…Oh, and…please keep this little meeting a secret from Mikado.”

In the end, they gave him their contact info, but he hadn’t gotten in touch since then.

Celty had brought up the idea of secretly packing up and moving if he really started to push them around, but the total lack of communication was even spookier.

I wonder if there’s some connection there. I haven’t seen Mikado since Golden Week, either…

Meanwhile, Shinra nodded to himself and started analyzing Anri’s recollection of past events.

“Yes, the phrase ‘I’ll create a place just for you’ does sound like your typical hotshot one-liner, but it seems a bit strange coming from a kid like Mikado. And it wasn’t as if you’d confessed your deepest, darkest fears to him or anything. The way he dropped that out of the blue almost sounds religious in nature.”

He pored over this for a while, then eventually gave Anri his honest opinion, with no malice whatsoever. “Honestly, someone telling you that without any good justification just sounds like he’s trying to play out the role of a hero. I guess Mikado’s turning into one of those annoying— Gbogbuf!”

“What gives you the right to call anyone ‘annoying’?!” Celty demanded, driving her fist into Shinra’s side.

She turned to Anri. “I get the picture. And in fact, I might have an idea of what it’s about.”

“Really?” the girl replied, eyes wide.

Celty carefully considered the message to write on her PDA. “Just between you and me—how are Mikado’s friendships at school?”

“Huh?”

“Is he getting along closely with anyone in particular these days?”

“W…well…I’ve often seen him with a younger boy named Kuronuma from the student committee…but it’s just like usual with everyone else. He’s not getting involved with anyone fishy…I think.”

“Gotcha.”

The problem is that Kuronuma kid is the fishiest one of all. I suppose he must play nice while at school. Should I tell Anri? If I don’t explain things now, that might leave her vulnerable to him abducting her or something…but on the other hand, if it has nothing to do with Mikado changing, that might just make things worse between them…

Shinra, freshly recovered from his gut pain and sensing Celty’s hesitation, decided to tell her a lie.

“Well, I don’t know this Kuronuma boy, but perhaps he has something to do with the problem.”

“Um…but…he really doesn’t seem that bad…”

“Well, I wouldn’t know, because as I said, I’ve never met him, but there’s no harm in being cautious, is there? And shouldn’t you know better than anyone that people can’t be judged on appearances?”

“…I suppose so…,” Anri admitted, though she wasn’t immediately in agreement. Celty, however, was impressed by Shinra’s quick thinking.

Nice one, Shinra! That should make Anri automatically careful around Kuronuma!

She nodded her helmet, playing along with the suggestion. Anri thought it over for a while, but her face still showed concern.

“If Mikado really has changed somehow, what can I even do about it?”

“On the one hand, you could do just about anything, and on the other, maybe there’s nothing you need to do.”

“That’s an irresponsible answer,” Celty typed, annoyed. “Just because it’s not your problem doesn’t mean you should give her an answer that says nothing.”

Shinra simply grinned. “Look, he’s a boy. Within the process of growing up, sometimes you feel like you’re special and that your way of thinking is the coolest there can be. Guys get caught up in themselves and think everything they do is cool.”

“Is that what they call ‘chuunibyou’ online? Sophomore Disease?”

“Yeah. It’s like measles. As the name says, it’s a disease that usually strikes around the second year of middle school, but sometimes there are folks like Izaya who never recover from it. It’s not strange at all for a guy to catch it in his second year of high school. Basically, as long as he’s not getting wrapped up in some kind of weird cult, he should recover all on his own.”

Shinra offered this advice with a laugh—but neither he nor Celty were aware of certain things.

True, Mikado wasn’t under the sway of some suspicious new cult.

But to the boy named Mikado Ryuugamine, the Dollars as he idealized them were already an object of faith.

And those Dollars were no longer one unified force.

Ikebukuro

The popular idol Ruri Hijiribe was suffering the advances of a stalker.

After a brief explanation of this fact, which sounded like the sort of thing one saw on the cover of a gossip rag, Yuuhei began to give his brother some background.

“The person stalking Ruri seems to come and go on the Dollars’ message board…but I don’t know anything about the Dollars. So as I was tracking rumors around, I noticed your name come up, and that made me wonder if you might know more about them than I do.”

“Ahh…gotcha. Well, I’m not in the Dollars anymore. I kinda signed up on someone’s invitation…but a lot of them were annoying, and I got tired of them, so I told someone I know in the group that I quit. That was the end of it,” said Shizuo, looking up at the ceiling as he recalled the events of a few months ago. “But even when I was active, the most I ever did was check their board on my phone and make a few posts. I don’t even know what the team is like, really.”

Kasuka noticed something mournful and lonely in Shizuo’s expression. “Ah…sorry about that. I didn’t mean to make you remember anything stupid.”

“Nah. You shouldn’t worry about it. We’re family—don’t come bowing and scraping when you need help,” Shizuo said with a brief smile. Then he turned to Miss Hijiribe and said, “…Sounds like you’ve had a tough time, huh? Did you try contacting the police?”

Ruri flinched at being addressed so abruptly but regained her poise and explained, “Well…it started when something was jammed inside my lock, so I could no longer get inside my home.”

“? You couldn’t get in?”

Normally, a stalker, once aware of the target’s address, would try to break the lock to sneak inside and maybe plant listening devices. The idea of keeping her out of her home didn’t add up.

“I thought it was just a prank at first…but then it kept happening every day. The police said there was a man hiding his face on the security camera, but they haven’t caught him yet. Once they started patrolling the area, the stalker started leaving bloody crosses all over our photo shoot locations, with the crucified being photo collages of various movie monsters with my face attached over them…”

The creepy nature of the stalking was striking, of course, but Shizuo was more preoccupied by a different detail.

“? Wait a second— If this guy knows where you’re scheduled to shoot, doesn’t that make him someone involved in your business?”

“The police thought the same thing at first. But everyone has an alibi…and when we did more research, we found out that some fans online were making deals and plans over my work schedule. But even though some of those really crazy fans are noted on some industry blacklists…all of them had alibis,” she said.

“This group trading idol information is within the larger Dollars, apparently. I tried to register on the website as a test, but it seems like there are a number of little communities, or user groups, within the Dollars, and you can’t get in with them unless you have someone to welcome you in,” said Yuuhei, his voice without emotion, like a robot reading the information in front of it. But Shizuo knew his brother well enough to read the subtle shifts in his state of mind.

“Look, I get that you’re pissed, but you gotta calm down, Kasuka. There are things you can’t notice unless you’re in a rational state of mind,” he advised, which was hilarious, given his own nature.

“Yeah…you’re right. Thanks.”

Neither Vorona from a distance, nor Ruri sitting right next to Yuuhei, could sense even the barest hint of irritation from Yuuhei. This brotherly conversation perplexed them.

Oblivious to their confusion, Shizuo continued, “Sorry, man. I’m not so good with the heavy-thinking stuff. If only I knew a bit more about the Dollars, I could help more…”

Someone who knows lots about the Dollars. Pretty sure I know someone like that…somebody who would know this sort of thing…

For an instant, the face of someone who would know way too much about that sort of thing floated into his mind, but he had to banish the image when a vein started throbbing on his temple.

Let’s rule out the fleabrain. But I bet Kururi or Mairu might actually fit the bill. No, wait—if I explain the situation, they’ll bug me about meeting Kasuka. I’m certain the boss would know, but I can’t cause any more trouble than I already have…

After a while, he recalled the face of a Dollars member who was well-known for mastery of the Internet.

Feels like someone I shouldn’t owe any more favors to than I already do…but I guess advice is always free.

“All right, I’ve got a person to ask. I’ll head over there right now—you in?”

“Are you sure? Am I imposing on you?”

“I told you, there’s none of that between family,” Shizuo said with a gentle laugh. Everyone else in the office listening in felt like they’d just witnessed something exceedingly rare but pretended to continue on with their work, in case mentioning it out loud caused the usual Shizuo to return.

Just then, a very pleasing little sound softened the air.

“Mewww.”

The unmistakable sound of a cat.

“Are you awake now?” Yuuhei mumbled down toward his feet, then addressed Shizuo. “That reminded me. I had one other thing to talk about.”

Without any emotion, he lifted up a little pet carrier resting next to the sofa and focused on the Scottish fold rubbing its face on the inside. It was an adorable cat, like a little ball of fluff, and probably still a kitten.

“Ruri’s hiding out at my apartment for the time being, but the thought of it getting attacked by a stalker while we’re both gone is horrible… But on the other hand, all the pet hotels around this area are full, so we can’t just leave it somewhere.

“We’ve been looking for someone who can take care of Dokusonmaru, just for a little while.”

Near Kawagoe Highway, Shinra’s apartment

“Um, I’m really sorry for just barging in on you like this,” said Anri as she prepared to leave. They’d had a nice conversation but ultimately hit a roadblock.

Knowing that Mikado was the boss of the Dollars, Celty could conjecture a number of things on her own, but she knew it wasn’t right for her to be the one to reveal that to Anri. She decided to just let the conversation end there. If Mikado truly got himself involved in something imminently dangerous, her silence wouldn’t be an option anymore, but she didn’t sense that level of danger at the moment.

Still, Mikado’s aberrational behavior was a fact, and she figured that it would be a good idea to talk with him the next time she ran into him around town.

Celty checked her watch and said to the girl, “It’s too dangerous to go out this late. You should spend the night.”

“Uh…b-but I couldn’t possibly impose on you like that!” Anri stammered. The dullahan clapped her on the shoulder bracingly and typed a reassuring message into the PDA.

“Don’t hold back. You’ve stayed over several times before. But if you really don’t like it here, I won’t force you to stay.”

“N-no, it’s not that at all!”

“If you need pajamas, you can use some that I wear from time to time. Hmm…I hope the size fits.”

Shinra watched the two abnormal beings discuss their youthful sleepover plans with warm satisfaction in his eyes—but just then, a sudden doorbell ring doused a bit of cold water on the pleasant mood in the apartment.

For being a luxury apartment, it was on the older side, so the doorbell ringer wasn’t just at the front door, but in all the rooms as well.

“Who could that be this late?”

It better not be Aoba Kuronuma, Celty worried, while Shinra went to open the front door—revealing a familiar figure bearing an unfamiliar one on its head.

“Mewww.”

Upon seeing Shizuo Heiwajima standing there with a tiny cat meowing on his head, Shinra burst into uproarious laughter. He was promptly kicked across the room. Celty thanked her lucky stars she didn’t have a mouth to laugh with, but it was still hard to keep her shoulders from trembling.

She didn’t realize that she was about to experience an odd reunion of sorts.

One day, chat room

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The chat room is currently empty.

The chat room is currently empty.

The chat room is currently empty.

Kid has entered the chat.

Kid: Nice to meet you.

Kid: I don’t think anyone’s around to see this, but regardless, nice to meet you.

Kid: Psychic

Kid: Sorry, auto-correct. Saika invited me to join up.

Sharo has entered the chat.

Sharo: Evening.

Kid: Good evening.

Kid: Nice to meet you. Are you from this message board?

Sharo: Heya. No, I just joined up on invitation from someone here.

Sharo: I’m guessing that none of the ordinary members are around at the moment.

Kid: Oh, I see. That’s a coincidence.

Sharo: Actually, I was just hanging around waiting for someone to show up before I logged in, lol.

Kid: Got it. (lol)

100% Pure Water has entered the chat.

100% Pure Water: Sorry, I was keeping an eye on things, too. Mind if I join in?

100% Pure Water: I was invited by a friend, but I’ve never done anything like this before. Hiya!

100% Pure Water: Well, that was a very flippant greeting. What if everyone else is actually older than me?

Kid: We can’t see who anyone is, so I don’t think anyone will be upset about rudeness.

Sharo: Age doesn’t really matter, does it?

Sharo: I read some of the backlog. That Kuru’s quite a character, huh?

Sharo: I think we can all address each other as equals.

Kid: I’m not used to this sort of thing, so I’ll revert to speaking politely.

100% Pure Water: Everyone should be free to do their own thing! Kya-ha!

Sharo: “Kya-ha” is pretty annoying, though. (lol)

100% Pure Water: Aww! (lol)

Saki has entered the chat.

Saki: Good evening.

Saki: I’m Saki. Bacura invited me to participate here.

Saki: It’s nice to meet you all.

Sharo: Oh, good evening.

Kid: What is this, newcomers’ day at the chat room? (lol)

100% Pure Water: Hello!

Chrome has entered the chat.

Chrome: Evening. Nice to meet you all.

Chrome: I like all the activity.

Chrome: I’m also a recent invitee.

Saki: Good evening.

Kid: It’s a pleasure.

Sharo: Evening. Wow, look how much we’ve been chatting, and it’s all just introductions so far, lol.

Sharo: How is it that none of the original members are even here? lol

Bacura has entered the chat.

Bacura: Good eveniiin’!

Bacura: Whoa,

Bacura: What’s going on here?!

Saki: Hi there.

Chrome: Good evening.

Sharo: Aha, is this one of the old-timers?

Kid: Old-timer is a bit rude.

100% Pure Water: -Ning!  

Bacura: Things are active in here.

Bacura: Sorry,

Bacura: I’m a bit nervous since the only person I know in here is Saki, lol.

100% Pure Water: That’s so cute.   I love the innocent types.  

Bacura: Sure, thanks, lol.

Kid: Well, we’ve all been invited to join this chat room, but I don’t think any of us are aware of what usually gets discussed here.

Bacura: Oh,

Bacura: It’s mostly a place to trade info about the area, primarily Ikebukuro.

Sharo: I see.

100% Pure Water: So are you all from Ikebukuro?

Bacura: Saki and I are currently living in a different location,

Bacura: But we lived in Ikebukuro before that.

Kid: I work in Ikebukuro.

Sharo: Oh, so you’re a proper working fellow?

Kid: No, it’s more like a part-time job. And let’s not pry into ages, shall we? lol

Saki: I agree.

Sharo: Y’know, I looked through the backlog…and I noticed a previous session about people stalking Ruri Hijiribe.

Sharo: And how the stalker might be in the Dollars.

Sharo: I’ll just ask: Is anyone in here a member of the Dollars?

Bacura: Right after we all agreed not to pry into private affairs, lol.

Sharo: Oh, come on, Dollars affiliation or not should be fair game.

Chrome: I’m in the Dollars. Registered in name only, though.

Kid: Same for me, I registered but nothing else.

Bacura: Whoa, whoa.

Saki: Then me and Bacura will have to sign up next time.

Bacura: Nope, not gonna happen, lol.

Sharo: I’m curious about them myself. Someone I know takes part in the group.

Sharo: So what’s the honest scoop? Do the Dollars get chicks?

Sharo: Because I will Doll up in that place to get some.

Bacura: Doll up, huh?

Chrome: Do you suppose that stalker story is really true?

Chrome: It’s scary to think that some of the other people who took our very same registration are criminals.

Chrome: And it doesn’t sound like there’s any movement within the Dollars to turn in the culprit.

Kid: Well, I’d be fine with handing over a report if there was actual evidence.

Chrome: It’s true that there seem to be multiple little communities within the Dollars currently. I hear that some folks are acting like a real gang, picking fights, mugging people, even running scams.

Kid: It’s an unpleasant time we live in.

Chrome: Around May, there was that crazy incident where the yakuza and some college group tried to kill each other.

Chrome: The college students were using the Dollars’ name as a front to sell drugs or something. Several of their members were actual Dollars.

Kid: I see.

Kid: You think there are people like that within the group?

Bacura: Let’s not start talking about this violent stuff right off the bat.

Bacura: Why can’t we just discuss interests first?

Bacura: Like your favorite date spot in Ikebukuro.

Saki: Are we going to Ikebukuro?

Bacura: No comment.

100% Pure Water: My recommendation would be Tokyu Hands!

Bacura: That’s a good one. You can spend all day there without getting bored.

Chrome: If you want to avoid boredom, the Seibu Loft Department Store is good, too.

Sharo: Well, they’re nice for not being bored, but those aren’t real date spots.

Sharo: Rather than a date spot, I’d prefer a location where I can meet girls easily in the first place.

100% Pure Water: Like a hostess club?

Sharo: Not exactly. I like those, but what I’m looking for is a bit different.

Chrome: What about a dating website?

Sharo: Is that a date spot? Were we not talking about date spots?

Kuru has entered the chat.

Mai has entered the chat.

Bacura: Oh!

Chrome: Good evening.

Kid: Nice to meet you.

100% Pure Water: Hey, nice evening!

Chrome: Good evening.

Mai: Good evening.

Mai: Yay.

Mai: There are lots of people.

Kuru: Well, well, it is lovely to encounter so many new and familiar names at once.

Mai: It’s lively.

Mai: I’m happy.

Kuru: Then perhaps I shall start by offering a topic of discussion. Just minutes ago, it seems you were all abuzz with the matter of Ruri Hijiribe’s stalker and the possible connections to the Dollars… From what I understand, there is somewhat of an internal struggle happening within the Dollars.

Kid: Internal struggle? Didn’t know about this.

Chrome: I haven’t seen any information to that effect on the boards I watch, either…

Kuru: I am speaking of the real world. It seems that about two months ago, some mugging gentlemen who name-dropped the Dollars were attacked by another group of Dollars. The details are contained in a weekly tabloid that goes on sale tomorrow, and I acquired an early copy.

Kid: Is this true? I find that interesting.

Kid: What’s the story?

Bacura: I don’t know if I can believe that.

Bacura: For one thing,

Bacura: If it’s an internal war,

Bacura: How does that work? It’s not like the Dollars function as a typical gang…

Saki: Settle down.

Chrome: I’m getting excited now.

Sharo: Hey, if a bunch of worthless thugs want to wipe each other out, that’s fine by me.

100% Pure Water: I’m scared. What if Chrome and Kid get attacked, too?

Mai: Nia

Bacura: Nia?

Kuru: Please excuse that. Mai rolled over laughing next to me. She probably dropped her chopsticks onto the keyboard.

Kuru: At any rate, the Dollars are like the history of Japan itself. In the past, it was a kind of primitive communism, a vague organization that helped one another and shared information. But as the various factions within the Dollars settled into establishment, the various communities within the group began to wield their power. Thus, like the Warring States period of Japan, you have a number of smaller nations coming to life within the whole of the land.

Kuru: Among them, you had a nation that was particularly violent, until it was crushed by a team of elite warriors. Little is known about this elite gang, except that their one feature is the use of ski masks and bandannas with a striking shark-teeth design. They seem to be imported.

Bacura: Uh.

Bacura: Are you serious?

Kuru: What is the matter? Does this ring a bell?

Kid: Oh yeah, I’ve heard of that, too.

Kid: Those are the caps that an old gang from Ikebukuro used to wear, the Blue Squares. Only a small number of them, though.

Bacura: Must be a coincidence.

Sharo: What’s the matter? Does someone you know wear a ski cap like that?

Bacura: No,

Bacura: I was mistaken.

Chrome: More importantly, we have many newcomers here today, so why don’t we continue the introductions?

100% Pure Water: Okay, how about we list our favorite movies?

100% Pure Water: Mine’s the Blair Witch Project!

Kid: I like pretty much anything.

Bacura: My favorite is,

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