Durarara!!, Vol. 11

by Ryohgo Narita

  At that moment—Tokyo

  At first glance, she was like any other girl you’d see walking around the shopping district. But the dark shadows lurking in her eyes created tension in the air around her and sent signals to keep your distance.

  Her name was Manami Mamiya.

  While her given name meant “sea of love,” the only thing that filled the seas within her mind was hatred—for Izaya Orihara.

  The man who had lied to her and completely dismissed everything she was.

  It had the effect of preventing her suicide, so she could’ve chosen to be grateful to him—but nothing in her mind had moved forward an inch from the moment that she made the decision to kill herself.

  Instead of moving forward, her life had taken a sideways turn down a detour of hatred for Izaya Orihara. She didn’t even remember why she wanted to die in the first place. Whatever that reason was, it didn’t matter to her anymore.

  Not only did he trick her, he also mocked her for choosing the route of death. He tore apart her everything.

  Until that moment, her hatred had not been pointed at any target. She didn’t even care enough to hate herself or hate the world.

  But in the karaoke room that day, the moment she had heard what the man who had given her the sleeping pills said, a surge of hatred burst forth that had never existed in her before.

  “It’s love. I don’t feel any love in your deaths. And that’s wrong. You must love death. You don’t have enough respect for nothingness. And I’m not going to die with you after a sorry answer like that.”

  Those words, the last thing she’d heard before she blacked out, had been etched deep into Manami’s soul. She remembered staring back at him and swearing that she would kill him.

  His words and hers repeated themselves in her mind, over and over, until the hatred she felt came to define her very reason for living.

  Perhaps this was how, when she saw the news on TV that Izaya Orihara had been stabbed, she’d been able to exhibit such an unbelievable proactivity. In a single day, she had identified the hospital where he had been staying, bought a knife at a home goods center and hid it in her bag, then took a ride on the Shinkansen train.

  But her blade did not succeed at tearing into Izaya’s heart. Instead, Manami found herself pinned down—not that it did anything to dull her furious, endless hatred of the man she meant to kill.

  And there, he suggested to her:

  “Do you have a job right now? Do you feel like maybe helping out with my work? It’s getting harder to keep on top of all the little details with just Namie. And I’d imagine it’ll give you many more opportunities to kill me, don’t you think?”

  Manami recalled his words and the smug smile he wore and clenched her jaw.

  What had he been hoping she would do? Nod and say yes? Scream at him and struggle, trying to stab him with her knife? Or would he have been satisfied at last if she’d laughed and slit her own throat to finally commit suicide?

  Manami silently agreed with all those choices and repudiated Izaya.

  Izaya Orihara would have been equally happy with any of those actions or anything else.

  He loved humanity.

  He loved the action and thought humanity brought together, regardless of the end result.

  Malice and benevolence, stupidity and sagacity, all in equal measures.

  It took just a few days for Manami to understand this. It made her nauseous.

  Loving everything equally is no different from loving nothing at all. Love is a selfish thing. It is merely a tool that widens the divide between one and all the rest.

  That was an extreme opinion in its own right, but it was how she felt.

  As far as reasons for killing another person went, having one’s opinions negated was a very rash and shallow one. But for a woman who gave up on her life for reasons she didn’t even remember, this was perhaps just a natural way of seeing things.

  She worked as Izaya Orihara’s pawn, her contempt made clear at every turn. The whole time, her every thought was on how to inflict the most pain on him.

  That was what brought her to this place, at this moment. To a cheaply built apartment fairly close to Ikebukuro. The door opened, revealing a girl.

  “Oh. Manami, right? What brings you here?”

  It was a young woman with long, flowing black hair—Haruna Niekawa. She was smiling, albeit with a note of discord.

  “To play a prank on Izaya,” Manami stated flatly.

  She already knew about Saika. As a matter of fact, she’d seen the people Haruna had sliced and now controlled. But there wasn’t a sliver of fear in Manami’s eyes as she looked at the woman capable of such things. It was rare that she felt anything anymore, aside from malicious hatred toward Izaya Orihara.

  “Sounds like you’ve got it tough. What exactly were you thinking of?” Haruna asked, chuckling.

  “I came here to steal something very precious to Izaya. That’s all,” the other girl offered.

  Haruna’s eyes narrowed just a bit. “And…how serious are you about this? Because today is my turn to guard the luggage.”

  “It’s easy. Just say that I tricked you and said that Izaya told me to come and get it. That’s all,” Manami said.

  Haruna’s mouth hung open for a moment, then twisted. “Ha-ha… And what am I supposed to get out of doing that?”

  It was a very reasonable question, and again Manami showed no hesitation in answering, “If you don’t have to guard it, that just gives you that much more time, doesn’t it?”

  “…”

  “Time you might spend searching for someone, perhaps?”

  In fact, it was an ideal transaction for Haruna. Aside from when she used Saika for Izaya’s sake, nearly all of Haruna’s time was spent guarding the “luggage.”

  Almost as though it would be a bad thing if she had free rein.

  “Fine. I’ll let you fool me.”

  “Good… Thank you, Haruna,” replied Manami, flat faced. Haruna said no more and leaned against the side wall of the hallway.

  Naturally, such an excuse would hold no water at all in a normal social structure. She’d be asked, “Why didn’t you call Izaya directly to get confirmation?”

  But such common sense did not apply to the group Izaya collected. All Haruna had to say was, “I trusted the woman Izaya brought into the group,” and that was that. Perhaps Izaya had actually inducted Manami into the group with the anticipation of actions such as this.

  In any case, Haruna decided that she would allow Manami to go about her business and pretend she knew nothing about it.

  Several minutes later, after she had seen Manami off with the “luggage,” Haruna made plans of her own to leave.

  Haruna followed Izaya’s orders out of her desire to see the man she loved: Takashi Nasujima. He had once been her teacher and so much more than that.

  She needed to reach him, to tell him about her love.

  Takashi…

  She remembered just how broad his back was and thought about how badly she wanted to thrust the blade that was the symbol of her love into it. Into his muscular neck; his curved collarbone; his shining eyes; his fingers, slender for a man’s.

  She wanted to run her blade through them all, over and over, telling him of her love through Saika. And when that dear man’s eyes were red, too, she would give him a blade, and he could carve Haruna’s body in return.

  They would pour their love into each other through the blade of Saika.

  It might look like a horrifying battle to the death to any observer, but to Haruna, it looked like a kind of love that no other human being could hope to experience.

  Her whole body throbbed with the excitement of her imagination, and she headed to the bathroom to wash her face with cold water.

  No. Not yet. You must leave the pleasure for the very end.

  As she left the house, her refreshed face wore a diseased smile.

  Free again, for the first time in ages, to do what she wanted t
o do.

  To sift through the bustle of the city for the one she was dying to see again.

  Raira General Hospital

  Meanwhile, the owner of the original Saika, facing off against Izaya, still couldn’t move a muscle.

  He just…isn’t normal. I need to cut him, right away! Or else Ryuugamine—! And Kida—! her mind screamed. But she couldn’t take the first step to act on this.

  She was afraid.

  She was afraid of Izaya’s confidence, in the way he smiled at this distance, even though he knew what she was capable of doing to him. As though he knew he had some trick that would keep her at bay, like that time he pulled out a gun.

  At the same time, a question appeared in her mind: Should I really cut him?

  Saika’s control was not absolute. Like Haruna Niekawa, some could overpower Saika’s words of love and refuse their status as her “children.”

  It sounded nice if you said they “returned to being human” or “overcame the supernatural control,” but the problem was that it was possible for them to use Saika’s power to their own ends.

  Saika’s desire to love people was a pure one. But what if that power of love was added to a human with their own personal desires? And what if a human being like Izaya Orihara happened to gain that kind of power?

  The more she thought about it, the more Anri realized she couldn’t just whip out that sword. And she never realized that she was already caught in Izaya’s trap.

  “You okay, Anri?” asked Karisawa with concern. She must have noticed the sweat on Anri’s cheeks.

  Karisawa didn’t say anything to Izaya. She wasn’t sure if she should intervene in what seemed like an issue between him and Anri.

  “…”

  Out of nerves, Anri couldn’t reply to Karisawa, either.

  So Izaya sighed and said casually, “Do you think I’m insane?”

  “…Yes,” she was able to respond. Anri wasn’t able to discern sanity from madness in other people’s minds, but her instinct told her to say yes.

  Izaya smirked, his eyes slightly downcast, then glanced back up at Anri with a note of mockery. “You know, I could ask the Black Rider this, too. What is it about you monsters—what right do you have to determine that a human being like me is insane?”

  “…”

  “You don’t still think you’re human, do you?”

  “…!”

  That took Anri by surprise.

  “Besides, do you even have the right to criticize me? It all started with your katana. Saika, right? The cause of it all was Haruna Niekawa, so it would be wrong to blame you entirely for it. And yet, you should’ve been able to avoid all this chaos.”

  Huh? I should have… How?

  This should’ve been her place to righteously accuse Izaya Orihara. Why was he the one criticizing her? She was so confused that all she could do was flail about as his words pierced her heart.

  “You put distance between yourself and Mikado Ryuugamine and distance between yourself and Masaomi Kida. Didn’t you? You chose to stay back and wait. You had people around you who gave you affection. And you were so pleased with that, you chose to do nothing. You could have made more of a move.”

  “No, I…”

  She stopped short. She couldn’t truthfully deny what he was saying.

  Was he actually right about that? He’d pointed out something she had never considered, and now uncertainty clouded her mind.

  Once Izaya detected that the anger in her eyes was wavering, he continued, “To be quite frank, you should have used Saika to cut Mikado Ryuugamine and Masaomi Kida. Then you would have been able to make them admit everything they were feeling.”

  “No…that’s not right! That would be wrong!” she shouted before she could stop herself.

  An outpatient down the hallway looked in their direction for a moment, then glanced away again, perhaps assuming Izaya and Anri were just having a romantic quarrel.

  Whether Izaya was aware of the public perception of them or not, he certainly played into the image by speaking to her as though calming an angry girlfriend. “Yes, that might be the wrong thing to do in humanistic terms. It might not be something a human being could even do, period.”

  “Then—”

  “But you’re not human, are you?”

  “…!”

  He stated it again. Anri could feel her lips and her throat trembling.

  When she faced off against him in Shinjuku, he’d said the phrase stupid sword, which she’d taken to mean Saika, the being residing within her. But now she was certain she understood.

  He was pointing at Anri Sonohara herself and stating that she was not human.

  Anri knew that she was not an ordinary human being. It was why she had been so drawn to Celty, who was alien in many ways and yet lived proudly. It was why she made the decision to be positive about her own life.

  So why did his words pierce so deeply into her heart?

  “You’re not like Haruna Niekawa. You didn’t have Saika forced into you and overcome it to win back control. You gave up on being human and wished to become one with Saika.”

  Anri understood the hurt in fairly short order. It was because there was clear hatred and mockery in Izaya’s words.

  “The reason I’m irritated is because you gave up on being human, and now that you’re a monster, you pretend to have troubles just like a human being does.”

  He was smiling, just like he had been this whole time. But from Anri’s perspective, there was clear and obvious malice in his words designed to corner her.

  “In that tightrope analogy from earlier, you would be an audience member watching safely from your luxury box. You’re the person who’s safe and sound and turning to the other people, saying, ‘Look, that’s dangerous. Isn’t someone going to help them?’ And if they fall, you’re the one who’s going to act like the biggest victim of them all.”

  “No…I’m…not…,” she protested, but it was more for herself than anyone else.

  “There’s no villain in this situation. Ryuugamine and Kida both made their own decisions and stepped out onto that rope, knowing it would be dangerous. No one is the aggressor, but you’re going to run around screaming that you’re the victim. Even though you had plenty of opportunities to save them.”

  “No! I…”

  “Are you going to claim you can save them both? You’re going to arrogantly use your monster powers to benevolently save the lowly humans? Well, I don’t know about Kida, but I bet Mikado would love that. He might shoot straight past affection and into worship of you.”

  He struck down each and every protest she might have lodged before she could say them, boxing her in, allowing no mental escape.

  Then came the finisher.

  “Let me tell you something, Anri Sonohara. It’s true that, like you’re fearing, Mikado Ryuugamine and Masaomi Kida are facing real peril. The situation is much more dangerous than the tightrope act you were imagining.”

  “Huh…?”

  “And I’m going to make it worse. But you can’t do anything about it. Hey, who knows, maybe you weren’t actually planning to do anything.”

  “That’s not…”

  She shook her head. The red light was already gone from her eyes. Instead, they were moist with tears as she tried to squeeze in a word edgewise.

  But as always, Izaya was ahead of her. It was like he was casting a spell designed to capture inhuman beings like her behind a magical barrier.

  “Yes, it is true. Because while I was going on and on about that tightrope analogy, you never once broke in and shouted, ‘Is Mikado really doing something that dangerous?’ You didn’t, did you?”

  “…!”

  “A normal person, before talking about whether I’m insane or rational, would be more concerned about that, wouldn’t they? That’s just common sense. But before you gave a thought to your friend’s safety, you were preoccupied with your own concerns. You’re such a—”

  Pwakk.

&nb
sp; Izaya was cut off by a sound like a dry, weak gunshot. Everyone else in the hospital within visual range was looking their way, wondering what had happened.

  Being right next to the sound, Anri and Izaya were the first to recognize it.

  Karisawa had pulled out a large sales flyer from a fan-run event for selling doujinshi, folded it into an origami popper, then snapped it loudly with her fingers. Before the nurses noticed, she then returned the flyer to her bag and grinned.

  “Izaya,” she said. Not Iza-Iza.

  “…What is it, Karisawa?” he asked quietly.

  “If you make my sweet, young friend cry, I’m going to solder your eyelids shut.”

  She gave him a pure, unfiltered smile. In fact, this made it clear that her statement was not a mere threat; it was the truth.

  Izaya took a moment to reflect on this, then smirked as he so often did and said, “You know, it’s that human part of you that I love so much, Karisawa. I respect you, even when you’re sticking up for monsters.”

  “You do? Thanks. But I’m not going to let you off.”

  “Fine, fine. I could go on, but I’ll let your threat stand and back off. After all, I ought to go and check in at the reception desk for the brain surgery unit.”

  “Yeah, you ought to get yourself checked out. What if your entire brain just looks like a wily fox’s face?” Karisawa jibed.

  He shrugged. “Anyway, if I learn anything about who hit Dotachin, I’ll get in touch. If he wakes up, I’d appreciate if you told him that Izaya actually swung by to pay him a visit.”

  Karisawa watched Izaya go in silence. Once he had disappeared around the side of the hallway, she realized that something was gripping the hem of her clothing. She turned around and saw Anri, her head down, hands trembling.

  “Karisawa…I…I…”

  She wasn’t on the verge of tears. She seemed more in a state of shock than anything. Karisawa put her arms around the stammering girl and hugged her tight.

  “Ah…”

  It was a warm and enveloping embrace, not an inappropriate act by any means.

  “It’s all right. Don’t you worry about it,” Karisawa said, allowing Anri to sink her face into her collarbone.

  Anri moaned, “But—but I…I’m actually…”