Durarara!! - Volume 8 - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Reality @ Idealism

Apartment building rooftop, Ikebukuro

While Celty was caught between the worries of a girl and Shizuo’s cat troubles, a boy who didn’t realize what he was putting Anri Sonohara through was busy smiling at a group of other boys.

“I’m really glad that nobody got hurt,” Mikado Ryuugamine said, grinning serenely. “But don’t go out of your way to put yourself in danger.”

He was addressing a group of about half a dozen youths on what looked to be the roof of an apartment building. One of the group was acting as its representative in talking to Mikado, while four others lounged around the rooftop, paying little attention to the goings-on. The only light on the eerie nighttime scene came from the faint rooftop illumination.

Relieved that they hadn’t suffered any serious injuries, Mikado exhaled and asked, just to be certain, “And anybody who didn’t show up today is fine, right?”

The youthful boy facing him, Aoba Kuronuma, grinned. “Mm-hmm. None of my guys are that stupid.”

“Stupid is a pretty cruel word to use for getting injured,” Mikado said with a grimace.

Aoba looked down at the shark-tooth-patterned hood in his hand and said, “I’m impressed that you knew where those guys were working.”

“Yeah…I looked into their Dollars community. I needed Mr. Tsukumoya’s help, though.”

“That’s the weird guy who pops in and out of the message board, right?”

“You shouldn’t call him weird. He’s quite successful, written books and everything.”

Shinichi Tsukumoya was a member of the Dollars, as well as a writer of a number of guides to the neighborhood under the title Ikebukuro Strikes Back.

Mikado had never met or seen him, so he had no idea what Tsukumoya’s real name, age, or even gender were, but after contacting him the other day, Tsukumoya was able to tell him which community corresponded to the folks who were mugging people using the Dollars’ name.

He used his administrator status to view the conversation there, identified a few of the users, and had them monitored so that he could take action against them.

All Tsukumoya did was find the original board, and Mikado didn’t tell him his plans after that. Perhaps the man could sense the boy’s intention, but he hadn’t come back to say anything about it.

Mikado was the only one of the original Dollars still around from the group’s founding, but he considered Tsukumoya to be a member from a very early stage.

I wonder if he was there at our first meetup last year, he wondered.

Meanwhile, Aoba’s smile was gone. “Hmm… Well, if you trust him, then that’s all right, I guess…”

As a matter of fact, Aoba was attempting his own research into the man named Tsukumoya, but no one in the Dollars seemed to have actually met him in person. That led Aoba to believe that he was someone who would only claim Dollars membership online, and thus wasn’t worthy of overt caution.

The real problem was the name Mikado mentioned next, that of a man who actually involved himself in the Dollars’ affairs in reality.

“If I could talk with Izaya Orihara, that would be great…but I can’t get in touch with him lately.”

“…”

“There are still many folks whose backgrounds I don’t know about yet. I bet I could learn a lot from Mr. Tsukumoya, but I don’t want to keep bothering someone I don’t even know in real life. I’d rather pay money to Izaya, if it comes to that. I wonder what’s up with him…”

“Being an info agent is a shady job, right? Maybe he got stabbed by a yakuza and buried already,” Aoba joked, looking aside.

Whatever had happened in the past to cause his attitude, it was clear that the look in Aoba’s eyes was full of hostility toward Orihara, no matter how he tried to hide it. Did Mikado recognize the subtle shift in the other boy’s expression? Either way, he shrugged and said, “You really shouldn’t say something like that, even as a joke. He’s really helped out a lot with some of the Dollars’ problems.”

Mikado Ryuugamine had forgotten something.

“Don’t get involved with Izaya Orihara.”

He’d received that warning from his best friend on the very day he moved to Ikebukuro.

But others he’d heard warnings about, like Shizuo Heiwajima and Simon, turned out to be nicer than first expected. So perhaps he couldn’t be blamed for overlooking his friend’s advice.

And perhaps some of the benefits Izaya had brought to Mikado had sapped the critical functions of his brain, like sweet poisons. Just as they did to Masaomi Kida when he was leader of the Yellow Scarves.

So Mikado didn’t yet realize that Izaya Orihara was a man who posed a danger to him. If he’d been suspicious of Izaya, he might have looked into the man’s past.

Perhaps he would have learned what Izaya once did to Masaomi Kida—or what Izumii, Aoba’s older brother, did to Masaomi.

If he had done these things, he most likely would not have partnered with Aoba Kuronuma and his friends. Ironically, perhaps it was because Mikado felt that Izaya Orihara was a friend—Aoba’s sworn enemy—that he was joining forces with Aoba at all.

I wonder how much Mikado knows about the fight between the Blue Squares and the Yellow Scarves?

That was a constant question within Aoba. Did he know everything already and was just using them for his own ends with intent to betray them at the very end?

…No, that’s too far outside of my expectations.

From the very beginning, Aoba and Mikado’s relationship was supposed to be one of using and being used.

Where he went wrong was assuming that ultimately he would be able to gain a leg up on Mikado, but that seemed unlikely to happen at this point.

He hadn’t underestimated Mikado Ryuugamine. If anything, Aoba had made contact with him specifically because he highly valued the boy’s abilities and connections. But until the incidents of Golden Week happened, Aoba had assumed that due to Mikado’s naive, simple nature, he could win control over him in the end.

But then he had realized:

The simplicity within Mikado was shrouded in some kind of thick madness.

“By the way, did you hear the rumors that there’s a Ruri Hijiribe stalker…within the Dollars?” Aoba asked bluntly.

Mikado gave him the exact same smile he always did at school. “Yeah, I did.”

A smile.

One of unbearable gentleness.

Neither fake nor wicked.

Just a plain old, typical, pleasant smile.

As Mikado Ryuugamine said the usual statement…

“We need to get people like that out of the Dollars as soon as we can.”

Luxury apartment, Ikebukuro

It was just after midnight that the ringtone played on Adabashi’s cell phone.

A Ruri Hijiribe song echoed off the walls of his apartment.

He listened to several seconds of that voice, that crystalline, heart-throbbing voice.

Wavering, savoring, he pressed the call button.

When Ruri’s voice abruptly stopped, he put on a sticky, smeary smile.

“Hello? Hello?”

“…Oh, it’s you,” Adabashi replied, and the man on the other side reacted with relief.

“Ah! Thank goodness. You always pause before you start speaking on the phone, so I can never tell. I’m just curious, is there a reason for that?”

“…I am busy savoring.”

“Pardon?”

“I savor the abrupt ending of Ruri’s voice. By my hand.”

“Okay,” the other voice said, nonplussed. Adabashi recalled the sensation in his fingertip and ears from moments earlier and let delight twist his entire face. A burning desire leaped deep in his stomach.

“The sound of Ruri’s voice, that soul-shaking beautiful voice, clicking off with the flick of my thumb, as if being crushed, her entire existence being flattened. I am savoring that very moment, so it is perfectly natural for my voice to emerge only once that moment is done. Isn’t that right?”

The person on the other end of the line replied to this clearly insane comment with a hasty “Uh, yeah, sure, I understand. But I can’t possibly match the depth of your love, so I only understand it halfway… It’s amazing, Mr. Adabashi. You say the same things as Father.”

“Don’t compare me to that terrible excuse for a father,” Adabashi spat, clearly annoyed. He narrowed his eyes and continued, “Not to a worthless man who would sleep with some total stranger of a woman—neither Mom nor Ruri—and get himself easily killed by Ruri herself.”

“Well, actually, as you may already know, Ruri Hijiribe is no ordinary woman. Father’s murder was actually quite—”

“That’s not what I mean. The murder isn’t the problem. If anything, I’m jealous,” Adabashi said, recalling the sight of his father’s death with slack features. “The problem is why Dad was sleeping with some stranger. I could understand sleeping with Mom. She’s getting up there in years, but whatever… But if he’s going to sleep with anyone else, it should be Ruri. How can you sleep with another woman when there’s Ruri? It makes no sense.”

“Aha! Yes, you’ve got a point there. I quite understand,” said the other person.

“So,” Adabashi asked, “what do you want?”

“Oh, nothing much. I told you before how I could sell you Ruri Hijiribe information before anyone else, if you did something for me. I was wondering if I could call in that favor now.”

“…What is it?”

“It seems that Ruri Hijiribe has made contact with the Headless Rider of Ikebukuro. I don’t know how they’re connected or what she wants…but when you reach out to Hijiribe, I would appreciate a report of everything you might learn about the Headless Rider. Just a report is fine. I’ll even slip in a bonus if you can throw an extra challenge at the rider, assuming you can get away afterward.”

As the man spoke smoothly, Adabashi raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to mean this Headless Rider is stronger than me?”

“Well, if you were…let’s say…what was that one fighter’s name? If you were tougher than that Traugott fellow who won that whatever-it-is tournament, that would be one thing. But I don’t suppose you’ve seen the Headless Rider in person, have you?”

“…”

As a matter of fact, Adabashi had seen the Headless Rider on several occasions.

But they were all during simple rides through the city, where one’s strength or weakness was impossible to determine.

He’d heard the stories about eerie inhumanity, however, and from the way this man was talking about them, the rumors were likely true.

“…So what’s with this Headless Rider?”

“Oh, it’s just that the rider’s activities have grown more overt lately. I’m getting many messages from my clients wondering if it’s the real deal or not.”

“…”

“I run a business, so if someone shows up and needs my services, I have to leap into action and achieve certain things. So I think it’s time that I get a proper assessment. There’s also the fact that I had some personal work interrupted…work that was supposed to help guarantee my safety.”

Adabashi didn’t know what he was talking about. He didn’t particularly care, either.

Ruri Hijiribe had made contact with the Headless Rider. Whatever that ultimately meant, he still had only one goal:

Whatever impediments might or might not appear, he had to achieve his love for Ruri Hijiribe.

“Well, fine. If you learn something more…something about Ruri, tell me…

“You gotta tell me…Mr. Yodogiri…”

Parking lot, Ikebukuro

“Must be nice not to have anything to do like you guys, while Kadota’s busy working the night shift,” Togusa said from the driver’s seat of the dormant vehicle, peering through the rearview mirror to the back, where Yumasaki and Karisawa sat.

The boy and girl looked up from their books and raised voices of protest.

“We do, too, have things to do! I’ve got seven more manga on my slate by the end of the day!”

“And I’m watching four late-night anime programs!”

“Exactly! You have nothing better to do!” Togusa snapped, hoping to silence them, but the other two only pouted and sniped back:

“Oh yeah? Well, when you’re not out collecting rent, you’re pretty much a jobless freeloader too, Togusacchi.”

“Yeah, what she said.”

“No, I’m not! I’m cleaning empty apartments and sweeping halls and all sorts of stuff, you idiots!”

“But your sister said that she was handling those jobs,” said Karisawa.

Togusa’s rebuttal caught in his throat.

“And I heard your brother takes care of the business and legal stuff.”

“W-well, that’s not… I mean…I’m around in case trouble ever arises…,” Togusa mumbled unconvincingly.

Just then, he was saved by the sound of his cell phone text notification. A brief Ruri Hijiribe ringtone played, which he faithfully listened to through to the end before he looked at the message.

“I’m too busy catching up on all my messages, you guys. Stop interrupting me.”

“What? You started this by interrupting our reading!”

“And you claimed to be busy, yet you sat there listening to the whole ringtone.”

Togusa reacted to this totally fair criticism by shaking his head in a you just don’t get it gesture and said, “As if I could pause Ruri in the middle of her song, fool.”

Normally, Saburo Togusa’s role in the group was to look down on Yumasaki and Karisawa for their overt otaku tendencies—but when it came to his car and Ruri Hijiribe, he displayed an even greater tenacity than they did. If there was anything all three of them would be interested in buying, it would have to be the CD singles of the anime theme songs sung by Ruri.

As it happened, the message Togusa just received involved Ruri Hijiribe as well, so he got into the right frame of mind before perusing the text.

“Wow… Oh man… I wonder if Ruri likes Scottish folds…”

It was a periodical e-mail newsletter from her official fan club. Togusa read through a bit more of the article, then turned to the pair with the kind of blissful expression that he never wore otherwise.

“Whoa…they’re gonna reprint her photo album! Man, I gotta get a copy of that, too!”

“…Are you going to buy another copy each time they print more, Togusa?” Yumasaki asked hesitantly.

“? Why wouldn’t I? You guys always buy two copies of manga, right?”

“Well, sure, one for posterity.”

“You’d have to be a real freak to buy another copy for every printing, though.”

“And you get super-pissed whenever your car gets scratched. You’re way more high maintenance than we are, Togusacchi.”

Togusa ignored his friends in the backseat, closed the e-mail, and started up the phone’s browser. Once there, he accessed the special Ruri Hijiribe community within the Dollars’ group, “Möbius Bandage.”

Right after her relationship with Yuuhei Hanejima went public, the community was in an uproar. They turned on the idol they’d worshipped, calling her a “traitor” and “used goods,” and demanded their money back. They loathed and raged against Yuuhei, while others just egged them on for kicks. Togusa was one of the few who never let his fandom waver, despite the shock. He wasn’t one of the levelheaded types who could always remember that an idol was nothing more than a false image, though; he trembled with envy but was able to tell himself, That perfect human being, Yuuhei Hanejima, is a far better man to make Ruri happy than me. Dammit if they don’t belong together! Thus, he weathered the online storms and worked to stabilize the community.

Through all of that, Togusa had become one of the senior members of the fan club. He scrolled through the article comments in silence, enjoying the trading of opinions—until he happened across one statement that put a scowl on his face.

“That asshole’s still around?”

“What’s the matter?” Yumasaki asked, surprised by the sudden change of attitude.

“Oh…it’s just this insider kinda guy who’s been hanging around.”

“Insider?”

“Yeah. Today he’s posting, asking if anyone’s interested in Ruri Hijiribe’s secrets. Apparently, he’s got some secret photo or something—the guy’s always going on about stuff like that. His username’s Sacrificial Boy. What a weirdo,” Togusa fumed.

“Well, you sound outraged, but I bet you’re secretly curious, huh? You wanna know Ruri Hijiribe’s naughty secrets?” Karisawa teased.

“Don’t you dare talk about her that way. You will show Ruri respect while in my car,” Togusa demanded with all seriousness.

The other two just looked annoyed. “Ugh, come on, man. You weren’t even that obsessed with her when she was just starting out.”

“I was young back then. I failed to fully understand her many charms.”

“Oh man, now he’s acting even worse. What should we do, Yumacchi?” Karisawa wondered.

Yumasaki mulled it over for a few moments. “I guess there are people like that in the voice actor fan community, too. Like the honorable Kamijou in Index. He was just some guy at the start, but now I find it difficult not to show some kind of respect.”

“Oh yeah. That makes sense to me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you’d better not be comparing Ruri to some stupid manga character,” Togusa warned, a vein throbbing at his temple, but he sensed that they were not going to see eye to eye on this and returned to the conversation in the article.

Yumasaki and Karisawa stared at the back of the driver’s seat, then leaned closer together to whisper, “By the way…wasn’t there that rumor about Ruri Hijiribe having a stalker?”

“Another rumor says it’s someone in the Dollars.”

“…That’s right. Even in our web group, everyone’s going crazy trying to ascertain the truth of the matter,” said Togusa, who had overheard every word of their conversation. He exhaled hugely, then stared forward with murder in his eyes. “If I ever find him, I’ll drive this car right into his house and over his bed…”

Yumasaki was stunned but couldn’t tell if it was meant to be a joke or not.

“Well, uh…if you do that, please save it for a time when we’re not in the backseat.”

Apartment building rooftop, Ikebukuro

“Oh, it’s you, Mom. Oh yeah? He’s already back?”

They had to pause their conversation so that Aoba could take a sudden phone call. He seemed to be talking to his mother about some brother of his.

I probably shouldn’t interrupt, Mikado thought. He waved good-bye, then turned to leave the rooftop.

“Oh, hang on, Mom… Mikado, I wanted to say…”

“We can continue this tomorrow. Go back to your phone call.”

“Err…sorry. I’ll text you later,” Aoba said, bowing.

Mikado resumed his bid for the door.

“Heya.” “Nice work today.” “Night.”

“Good night, guys,” Mikado said to the menacing young men…

…still wearing that transparent smile, the kind that one gave to longtime friends.

Mikado descended the building and exited to the street, where he noticed two motorcycles parked out front. The riders seemed to be in an argument, so he started walking well around them to avoid getting involved.

“…you were doing? Huh?”

“That’s none of your busi…”

From what he could hear as he passed, it sounded like your typical argument. Mikado side-eyed the two men along the way.

One was wearing a flashy leather jacket with a spine printed on the back, while the other was dressed in a black suit, which seemed out of place on a motorcycle. He had some kind of metal bracelet on, but it was hard to tell the fine details.

Probably just a quarrel between different biker gangs. Though it was rare for them to be in Ikebukuro to begin with, the sight reminded Mikado of the battle with Toramaru two months ago…

And so he scampered away from the building, his expression just a bit mournful.

Near Kawagoe Highway, Shinra’s apartment

“Mewww.”

The cry of the kitten brought some much-needed warmth to the room.

The cast assembled in the space was far from peaceful by definition: Ikebukuro’s fighting puppet, a black market doctor, two huge celebrities whose relationship was subject to media coverage, a girl with a terrible secret, and a headless dullahan.

But a cat has no understanding of the meaning of these things, and thus, it freely brought comfort to the scene. It had jumped down off Shizuo’s head, had wandered around the apartment, and was now purring happily atop Anri’s thighs.

“…So, where were we?” Shizuo asked.

“We were talking about the Dollars,” said his brother.

“Oh, right. I couldn’t really think of anyone who knows about the Dollars, but I knew Celty was way deeper in the group than me, so I figured coming here was the best option,” he explained.

Shinra shook his head in disbelief. “And that’s why you brought Kasuka and Ruri Hijiribe over here? How cruel! You could have at least given us a warning first!”

“Huh? Well, I could see the lights were on from a distance. So I realized you guys were probably home and came over…”

“…I’m sorry. I hope we’re not intruding,” said Ruri, who was shrinking in her seat.

Shinra vigorously shook his head. “Not at all! If anything, it’s the opposite! Celty and I are fans of both Yuuhei Hanejima and Ruri Hijiribe, as a matter of fact! I would have preferred to know in advance so we could prepare a roast turkey and a cheesecake and whatever else!”

“Uh…thank you… And you were a huge help to me, er…back then.”

“Hmm?” Shizuo wondered, looking back and forth at Shinra and Ruri. “You two know each other?”

Ruri was mumbling, unable to clearly explain, so Shinra stepped in and offered, “She was terribly hurt a while ago. Yuuhei was the one who found her, and he brought her to me for treatment.”

“Oh, right, I do remember introducing you to Shinra around early spring…but why Shinra instead of a regular doctor?” Shizuo wondered.

In fact, it was he who had given Ruri Hijiribe her terrible injury, but since he didn’t know that, explaining the situation would require revealing that she was the serial killer Hollywood.

Ruri was at such a loss to provide an answer that she was considering getting down on her hands and knees to confess the entire truth—when Yuuhei answered for her.

“There’s a monster in show business…”

“Ah, gotcha. One of those things. That makes sense, then,” Shizuo said, folding his arms, though it wasn’t clear how he interpreted the statement. “So anyway, that’s the story. You know anyone who might have the scoop on the Dollars’ insider info? Also, take this cat off my hands.”

“Hmm, that’s a difficult task. Who would know stuff like that? And the cat will depend entirely on Celty’s opinion.”

While Shizuo and Shinra hashed it out, each of the women in the apartment was plagued by her own particular demons.

Celty Sturluson.

Anri Sonohara.

Ruri Hijiribe.

Each of these women was considered “alien” by the standards of modern society.

Celty was a dullahan and not human to begin with, while Anri housed the cursed blade Saika within her body, and Ruri inherited inhuman blood.

The instant Ruri came through the door, Celty could sense something. She knew Ruri Hijiribe, of course—both she and Shinra liked the popular actress. That should have been their first meeting, but she was immediately possessed with a certain conviction.

I’ve…met her before?

The first piece of evidence was the way her eyes bulged briefly when she first saw Celty. It wasn’t the same kind of surprise that people usually had when they saw the Headless Rider.

The other evidence was the extremely rare sensation of the inhuman that Celty picked up in Ikebukuro only once in a blue moon.

In fact, this woman felt uniquely both human and alien—a combination that Celty recalled once ferrying as “cargo.”

No, uh, wait.

I remember the woman hiding her face with sunglasses and a hat, but…but then she came back as an impostor dullahan to save me from trouble…

Was that actually Ruri Hijiribe, the girlfriend of Shizuo’s brother?

…

What in the world?

…

I mean, really, what in the world?!

She sat down on the couch, trying as best she could to act calm while holding down the waves of confusion.

Meanwhile, Ruri was seated next to Yuuhei at the dinner table, grappling with complex feelings of her own about Celty.

What should I do? I didn’t realize the Headless Rider was at this doctor’s place. I wonder if she knows that I was a “customer” here that one time…

She felt guilty about the idea of hiding information but didn’t know how to explain, either. So she focused on Shizuo and Shinra’s conversation as a means of distracting herself from the panic.

As for Anri Sonohara, who didn’t know anything about the connection between the other two, she had arrived at the conclusion that Ruri didn’t seem to be entirely human through different means.

The instant she saw Shizuo, the voices of the cursed blade within her body swelled. She pushed them through to the other side of the picture frame so that they stopped bothering her, but as soon as Ruri Hijiribe approached, the voices took a sudden turn.

Confusion.

Saika was supposed to love all human beings equally, but the voices of love temporarily hushed and began to whisper among themselves.

“Is she a person? Or a monster? Do we love her? Or not? Is she human?” went the unanswered questions, ringing in Anri’s mind.

What does this mean? Is Ruri Hijiribe…not human?

Is Celty aware of this…?

The three women sat back and observed, each harboring her own doubts and questions.

As the third-wheel between the other two, Anri watched Celty and Ruri closely; they seemed a bit stiff and awkward, which lent credence to her suspicion that they knew each other somehow.

She was going to sit back and blend into the scenery—except that Dokusonmaru had other ideas. He stood up in her lap, stretched, and started to climb up her uniform shirt with his little paws.

“Eek!”

He quickly got up to her chest, where his belly pressed against her ample cushioning as his back legs scrabbled in thin air.

The sight of the kitten scrambling on Anri’s chest was both cute and somewhat erotic, but given that the men in the apartment were the older Shizuo, the dedicated Shinra, and the stone-faced Yuuhei, there was no particular excitement from them. Dokusonmaru’s adorable cries continued unanswered.

But something about the scene caught Shizuo’s attention when he heard Anri shriek, jogging his mind.

* * *

“Oh, right, that’s right. There’s that other guy who often hangs out with that girl over there. You know, he showed up to the hot-pot party. Ryuugasaki…no, Ryuugamine?”

“Huh? Oh, you mean Mikado Ryuugamine.”

“That’s the one,” Shizuo said. “When all that fighting was going on during Golden Week, I told that Ryuugamine guy I was quitting the Dollars…”

“Huh?”

“Huh?”

Huh?

Shinra, Celty, and Anri all had the same question.

Was it possible this had something to do with the matter the three of them had just discussed—that of Mikado’s strange behavior?

“This is the first I’m hearing that you quit the Dollars… Why?” Celty asked him.

Shizuo shrugged, a bit taken aback by their surprise, and began to explain his decision.

“Well, I was feeling like it was getting to be too much trouble. Or maybe I should say that I didn’t wanna be involved with folks who would kidnap girls. But I didn’t really know how to actually quit, so I figured I should probably just tell someone. He happened to be in the park at that moment, so I told him I was quitting the Dollars. And that was that.”

Celty considered this information.

That must have been a shock to Mikado to learn that he was leaving. It’s a shock when anyone quits, but Shizuo was a particularly big name within the Dollars. Did the impact of that make him start acting weird…?

That seemed a little too simplistic and dramatic, so she shelved the idea. If that was going to upset him, he would have acted depressed, if anything. It didn’t seem like the sort of shock that would actually make him more cheery.

“If I run across him, I’ll make sure to ask. Mikado’s still a kid, so I don’t really want to drag him into our problems.”

“Yeah, true. Don’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable,” Shizuo told her, then lifted up the teacup on the table to his lips, right as Shinra said the most inconsiderate thing possible, given the circumstances.

“I happen to think asking Izaya would be the quickest route. Why don’t we come clean, reconcile, and seek his help?”

There was a spectacular cracking sound, and the pieces of the teacup fell from Shizuo’s hand onto the ground. Tea stained his wrist and knees, and a number of veins bulged out on his face.

“…Sorry, Celty. I’ll pay you back.”

“Huh? Why are you apologizing to Celty and not to mee-gee-gee-gee- gee—?”

Shizuo lifted Shinra up by the base of his neck toward the ceiling.

“There’s no ‘reconciling’…because I’ve never been friends with that fleabrain in the first place!”

“Settle down, Brother,” Yuuhei said.

“…All right. Sorry,” the elder brother said, lowering the doctor before he made good on his threat to throw the man out the window.

He’s like the Beast, showing mercy at Beauty’s request, Celty thought, but she didn’t dare mention it. Instead, she typed, “It’s your fault for saying that. Take a hint,” and showed the message to Shinra.

However, she couldn’t deny that when he brought the topic up, the first face she thought of was Izaya’s. Then she remembered that not only had she not seen him recently, she hadn’t heard a word, either.

Oh, right, he got stabbed and hospitalized. No contact since then.

In fact, Daioh TV had run a single news report about a stabbed hospital patient going missing, but Celty didn’t catch that one, so the most she thought about Izaya at the moment was that he hadn’t been giving her work for a while. Now that they actually needed his help for something, she realized the strangeness of his recent absence.

He’s trouble when he’s around and an inconvenience when he isn’t…though I guess that might be a bit mean to say.

She began to consider the situation anew but was abruptly distracted by a tiny “Mewww” from Dokusonmaru, who was now perched on Anri’s shoulder.

It was as if he was trying to dispel the gloomy atmosphere descending upon his keepers with his little voice.

Apartment, Shinjuku

Masaomi Kida paused his examination of the last several days of chat log and turned to his partner, Saki Mikajima.

“Hey, Saki.”

“What is it, Masaomi?” she replied, but before he could begin to explain, she followed up with, “Are you going to Ikebukuro?”

“…What are you, psychic? Well…I’m not going right this second. It’ll be tomorrow.”

“You’ve been worried about the Dollars since that one chat room session. When you learned about the Blue Squares being in the Dollars.”

“Well, if you’re just going to say all my thoughts out loud, it kind of defeats the purpose of me pulling myself together enough to make this statement in the first place.”

The Blue Squares was a street gang that once repped Ikebukuro and often squabbled with the Yellow Scarves, which Masaomi had created for fun with his fighting buddies in middle school.

He had no good memories associated with the name, but it had to be even worse for Saki, since they were the ones who broke her leg.

But Saki merely smiled and, in a voice like a comforting blanket, said, “I barely remember it. Everything that happened back then is like a really hazy dream.”

Masaomi looked at the way she was staring at the floor and suspected that she was lying. The sound of her screaming coming through the phone speaker when they snapped her leg still echoed inside of his skull. But he chose not to press her on it.

“Well, ya can’t do much with a dream.” He sighed. “Pretty soon you’ll be forgetting your memories of me, too.”

“That’s fine. We’re making new memories right now.”

“Wow, you move on quick.” Masaomi smirked, shaking his head. “The person named Kid in the chat room mentioned guys wearing shark-teeth ski masks. Those guys were in the Blue Squares. I hardly ever saw them… But if they’re trying to take over the Dollars like they did the Yellow Scarves…I can’t just sit back and let that happen.”

“Why do you have to go, Masaomi? For your friend?”

“That, too…but the main thing is…I want to settle my own score with those Blue Squares. Sure, maybe I’ll just forget all about them as an adult…but at this moment in time, I can’t imagine myself getting over it,” he said, looking sadly at Saki.

She gave him a smile that spoke of absolute forgiveness. “I’m not going to stop you. I know I can’t. I wish I could convince you that it’s dangerous, though.”

“Hey, no fair saying that out loud. It’s supposed to be internal monologue.”

“I don’t need to play fair. All I’m doing is waiting here.”

“For me to return?” he asked. “Don’t bother.”

But Saki shook her head. “For you to crack jokes and laugh the way you used to.”

“…You really don’t play fair, Saki.” He leaned over and bumped his forehead against hers. “Don’t worry. Once I find a place I can actually return to, I’ll come and bring you along.”

“You claim you need to find one, as if you haven’t already picked it out.”

“…Yeah…I’m going back to ’Bukuro. There are lots of folks I’d like to introduce you to and folks I’d like to meet you,” he said, thinking of his childhood friend and the girl with the glasses.

Saki turned her face away and looked sideways at him. “Your father and mother?”

“Wha…?! C-come on, it’s a bit early for that! I mean, yeah, we’re not students anymore, but w-we’re still young…”

“I’m kidding. You mean your old friend and my rival, don’t you?” She grinned, all-knowing.

Masaomi’s mouth hung open for several seconds, until he smiled in resignation and exhaled a long, long breath.

“You just don’t play fair, Saki.”

Ikebukuro

“Hey, it’s Ryuugamine.”

“Ah…”

On his way home, Mikado was flagged down by Kadota, who was wearing a different outfit from his typical gear.

It was a work uniform with chalky-white spots scattered on it, probably from stucco. There was a sack in his hand that looked like it was carrying work tools.

“Oh, hi, Kadota. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Yo. Whatcha doing out here at night?”

“Just on my way home from a friend’s. Do you work this late?”

“Yeah, I’m on break from my night shift. Just ate dinner, heading back now.”

Aside from the Blue Squares members, Kadota was the one guy in the Dollars who Mikado encountered more than any other. It felt strange and novel to see him without Yumasaki and the others, but Kadota didn’t act any differently toward Mikado.

“So, you still doing the whole Dollars thing?”

“Huh? Why wouldn’t I be?” Mikado asked as he walked.

Kadota seemed strangely confused by this. “Huh? Oh, okay. Well, it’s just that there are some weird folks doing bad stuff with the Dollars’ name. And they fought with Toramaru back in May.”

“Oh, please, don’t be silly. I wouldn’t quit the Dollars over something like that. Plus, I know about the folks using the Dollars’ name to get away with bad stuff… I just don’t accept them as part of the group,” he said firmly.

“Yeah, but the whole thing about the Dollars is that you can do whatever you want…”

“Yes, you can do whatever you want. That includes criticizing the people doing bad things.”

“…Well, sure, I guess so,” said Kadota, who clearly felt something was off about the other boy but couldn’t tell what it was. He decided to change the subject. “Have you been in touch with Kida lately?”

“…Not in person. Online…now and then,” Mikado answered, looking away.

“Gotcha,” Kadota replied. “Well, I don’t know why he up and left Ikebukuro, but as long as he’s doing well, online or otherwise, that’s good.”

Kadota wasn’t aware that Mikado was the founder of the Dollars. He knew about his friendship with Masaomi Kida and his acquaintance with Celty, but he’d never really asked about the reasons or anything. But Kadota did hear the rumors about Masaomi quitting school and felt a certain kind of loneliness at him no longer rushing around town trying to pick up girls.

“I bet he has his own reasons, though,” he said, not caring to delve too deeply—when Mikado, face forward, delivered a headstrong response.

“It’s all right. As long as people like you guys are around, it’ll all work out!”

“What?”

“You’re like the perfect example for the Dollars,” Mikado said without a hint of shame.

“…Come on, don’t give me that.” Kadota groaned. “People were talking before like I was some kind of influential member of the Dollars. It’s all crap. Besides, anyone can join and do whatever they want, so there’s no example or model to copy in the first place.”

“Still, I feel like the Dollars could be at peace if there were more people like you and Celty around. If only all the people doing bad stuff in our name were gone, and it was an actual beneficial group of people helping one another.”

Yeah, that sounds nice to say, but in reality, it would be kinda creepy and way over-formal, Kadota thought, but he couldn’t just say that right to Mikado’s face. He had to express his doubts in a less direct fashion.

“But that’s just your ideal situation, right? That doesn’t mean your ideal matches everyone else’s.”

“Yes, it’s the ideal,” Mikado admitted. “But being in the Dollars also gives me the right to want to approach that ideal…”

He glanced in the opposite direction from Kadota and fell silent. The other man opened his mouth to say something, but Mikado pushed onward with his usual gentle smile.

“Well, my house is this way. So long.”

“…Yeah. Later.”

They parted ways at an intersection and headed down different streets, one an alumnus of Raira Academy and one a current student.

Kadota was never able to shake his feeling of strangeness about Mikado’s attitude. He continued thinking about what the cause could be—until he landed on the mental image of one man’s face.

Kinda seemed like Ryuugamine knows Izaya… Let’s just hope he’s not like the old Kida and is going off into a weird direction because that guy’s filling him with hot air. But I bet Izaya’s too busy to waste time playing around with a kid.

He thought about his old classmate as he headed back to work. Mikado only seemed like he was below Izaya’s interest because Kadota didn’t realize who he really was.

Y’know, I haven’t heard a single rumor about him lately. Hopefully he didn’t piss off the Awakusu-kai and get his ass buried in the mountains somewhere…though that would probably be a satisfying end by his standards.

It was a violent thought but an appropriate one for Izaya. Meanwhile, a motorcycle drove past.

“…”

Kadota noticed the jacket the biker was wearing and raised an eyebrow. “That’s weird. Haven’t seen one of those since that crazy biker cop came to town,” he murmured to himself, watching the bike drive off.

“That was a Dragon Zombies jacket.”

Outside Russia Sushi, Ikebukuro

“Heyyy, customer, you come tomorrow, day after, and forever after. I send you to eternal sleep,” Simon said, ushering out the final customer of the day.

They’d already closed the hanging shutter, so all that was left was to clean up the interior. The only people around were the occasional passing drunk, a stunning contrast to how crowded the restaurant was during the day. But something out there seemed to wriggle and writhe in his peripheral vision, so he quickly focused on it.

It was the sight of someone turning around the corner at that precise moment, the black outfit simply vanishing from view around the bend.

“…?”

Simon continued to stare in that direction, sensing that it had not been yet another drunk or youngsters out carousing at night.

“What are you doing, Semyon? Get in here and start cleaning,” came a voice from inside the shop, so he shrugged and went back through the door.

Watching from one of the alleys across the street was a man, leering happily to himself.

“Looks like they managed not to get into any trouble with the Awakusu-kai. Wonder how that got resolved,” he said to no one in particular, putting his hands into his thin summer coat. “And to think that Russian girl would end up working for Shizu of all people.”

He slowly left the scene, letting just a hint of frustration tinge his actions.

“This is what makes people so fascinating,” he said, grinning fiercely and springing down the center of the empty street.

Springing, springing.

Like a child headed to the bus for a field trip.

Chat room

Kuru: I think that I might know who Sharo is.

Mai: Really?

Sharo: You serious? Aw, damn.

Kuru: You must be the actress Sharon Stone.

Sharo: You just took that from my username!

Mai: Bzzzt.

Sharo: It would be hilarious if Sharon Stone was just hanging around this site, speaking Japanese, and pretending to be a man.

Kuru: Perhaps you are Charon Walken the stuntman? How wonderful! I’ve seen all your movies!

Sharo: Who is that?!

Mai: A foreigner.

Sharo: Clearly! That’s obvious! But who are they?!

Kuru: Google it.

Sharo: Ugh!

Kuru: You truly are worth teasing, Sharo. As a matter of fact, I really do know your identity, but I prefer to leave it ambiguous to the rest of the group. I would think you’d be grateful for that. Consider my blunt rudeness toward you on our first online meeting to be evidence of my knowledge.

Mai: You did it.

Sharo: Not in the least!

Saki: Charon Walken is a famous stuntman in America. He’s the younger brother of the actress Gloria Walken. He doesn’t get publicized much since he’s just a stuntman…but he’s actually rather similar to the actor Yuuhei Hanejima.

Sharo: Thank you for the detailed answer. So he’s famous, huh?

Kuru: What’s this? You were suddenly much more polite there than with us. Those who change their attitudes depending on the person are destined to end their lives alone and mistrusted. Just kidding. I hope that you take my words seriously, consider the measly nature of your own life and the greatness of ours, and treat us with the respect we deserve.

Mai: Yay!

Sharo: Screw you guys.

Saika: fighting is bad

Kid has entered the chat.

Kid: Good evening.

Kuru: What a lovely encounter, Kid.

Mai: Good evening.

Sharo: ’Sup.

Kid: Saika is correct.

Saika: good evening

Kid: That sounded like the sort of thing that people who know each other off-line would say to each other, but we are all very recent acquaintances. (lol)

Kid: You’re going to make us think that you’re really fighting. (lol)

Sharo: Whoopsie.

Mai: Sorry.

Kuru: Why, it appears that I became too self-absorbed in teasing Sharo and breached accepted online manners. I am very truly ashamed…

Saika: sorry

Kid: Why are you apologizing, Saika? (lol)

Saika: thank you

Kid: No, please don’t worry about it.

Sharo: Speaking of Yuuhei Hanejima, that reminds me.

Sharo: Seems like his girlfriend, Ruri Hijiribe, really does have a stalker.

Kid: She does?

Kid: Was there news about that?

Sharo: No, I just overheard everyone talking today, and they said she’s had a stalker for ages.

Sharo: It’s even a big rumor online.

Kuru: Ah yes…I am aware of that rumor, too.

Saika: i’m sorry

Saika: i have to get up early so i’m leaving now

Sharo: So long.

Mai: Good night.

Saika: sorry kid

Saika: i hate to leave just when you showed up

Kid: Please don’t worry about it. (lol)

Kid: Sleep is the best choice when you’re tired. As long as it’s not eternal.

Kuru: Oh dear. What a shame, just when the night is beginning. But we shan’t hold you back. The greatest bliss in life is the moment of drifting under a warm blanket when one is tired. In that sense, a wounded person on the brink of death who claims to be getting sleepy might just be under the effect of the brain sensing its doom and attempting to ease the suffering through bliss.

Kuru: …Kid seems to have summed up my thoughts more succinctly while I was typing that very long message.

Mai: That’s funny.

Mai: Ah.

Mai: Kuru’s really bummed out next to

Mai: Ouch.

Mai: I got pinched.

Saika: good night everyone

Saika has left the chat.

Kid: Good night.

Sharo: Oh, speaking of Ruri Hijiribe, do you know anything, Kuru?

Kuru: Pardon me. I was chastising Mai for telling silly lies. What I know is that the media caught wind of her relationship and snapped a roll of photographs of a passionate kiss…and in fact, there are some mysterious men in the middle of the pictures, who are not reporters and not in any way related to Ruri Hijiribe and Yuuhei Hanejima.

Kuru: If you click this link you may view the photos.

Kid: Hmm, let’s take a look.

Sharo: Ah yeah, that’s the story I heard, too.

Kuru: I suppose the stalker could be harassing Yuuhei Hanejima instead, but those were clearly men in the photo…and I would prefer not to imagine gay stalkers.

Sharo: But what’s stalking Ruri Hijiribe gonna get you? She’s already smooching Yuuhei Hanejima, right? Kissy-kissy-poo-pooh. You’d think they’d give up at that point.

Kuru: Perhaps the fact that they cannot abandon their obsession is what defines them as stalkers? Ultimately, loving is an act that fulfills oneself. By freely serving the object of one’s love, one receives the happy, loving smiles that warm the heart. The actions of a stalker are merely a negative of that service of another.

Kuru: There are numerous kinds of stalker. Some truly believe that they are doing it for the sake of their target. Others just want unthinking control. Some know it is for their own sake but do it in the belief that love is holy. And lastly, there are those who seek the destruction or displeasure of their target in order to fulfill their twisted desires.

Kid: That last one isn’t love, it’s just plain lust.

Kid: Though it’s true that there are plenty of people like that out in the world.

Sharo: Well, if it’s someone who wants her all to himself, wouldn’t he try to kill Yuuhei Hanejima, too? Scary, huh?

Mai: I don’t want that.

Mai: Won’t let him kill Yuuhei.

Kuru: Settle down, Mai. Yuuhei is not the sort of gentleman who would perish from the likes of a miserable stalker. He will use his considerable financial, spiritual, influential, and humanistic power to protect himself and his loved one. The stalker is in checkmate. Very soon his despicable corpse will be crucified atop Tokyo Tower for all to see.

Mai: Yay!

Sharo: Damn, that’s one hell of an obstruction of business for Tokyo Tower!

Sharo: But some folks are saying the stalker is one of the Dollars, right?

Sharo: Wouldn’t the Dollars stick up for that stalker, knowing he’s one of their own?

Kid: I can’t imagine that. The Dollars are not as cohesive and structured as an actual gang.

Kid: The stalker coincidentally having a relative in the Dollars, maybe. But the Dollars as a whole would never rise up to protect him. They say there are middle schoolers, housewives, and active police officers among the ranks, after all.

Sharo: Man, the Dollars sure are a weird group, aren’t they?

Sharo: I hear rumors about a leader, though.

Kid: Oh? I thought there wasn’t supposed to be a leader.

Kuru: I also was under the impression that there is no vertical hierarchy in the Dollars…

Mai: Are you a liar?

Sharo: I’m not lying! It’s a story this guy named Horada was spreading in prison.

Sharo: Oh, crap.

Sharo: I didn’t mean to share anyone’s real name. Can I delete that?

Sharo: Oh, whatever. He’s in prison, anyway.

Kid: Please tell us more.

Sharo: Okay, so this…Mr. H., shall we call him?

Sharo: I happen to know many ruffians and thugs, which is how I heard this story…but this fellow whose name begins with H and ends with -rada was boasting in prison that he knew who runs the Dollars. He just won’t say any actual names.

Sharo: In fact, he said that if he ever got out, he’d use that info to blackmail the leader. Of course, you wouldn’t expect anyone to believe such a rumor if they knew it came from a guy fresh outta the slammer.

Kuru: You seem to know many menacing types.

Sharo: It’s funny, because I myself am utterly impeccable of character.

Kuru: You’re a liar.

Sharo: Hey!

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