Mikado reached the roof and gazed up into the sky, breathing deeply. The sun was still high in the sky, shining softly through the gauzy clouds.
He looked at the Sunshine 60 building in the distance and let himself indulge in a private moment before he lifted the phone to open its contact list and click on a particular name there.
It was a number he’d tried a few times recently and mysteriously failed to reach every time. He was worried that he wouldn’t get through today, either, but he felt motivated by a belief that at least trying would be better than doing nothing and a hunch that the extraordinary nature of the situation would actually get him through this one time.
“…”
Mikado sucked in a deep breath and pressed the call button on the contact.
He steeled himself for the task ahead, imagining what might happen as a result of this.
Ikebukuro—Bikkuri Guard
Ooh, another police vehicle. I wonder if something’s happened.
Izaya felt his heart leap as he witnessed each passing police car and crime lab van.
He was on a street underneath the train bridge on the south side of Ikebukuro Station that was colloquially known as Bikkuri Guard. After his hospital visit, he had been strolling this direction, hoping to get an idea of what was happening in the city.
A few members of Dragon Zombie were following a short distance away, but far enough that if a hostile group attacked him with intent to do serious harm, he wouldn’t stand a chance. But Izaya beamed happily, soaking in the thrill of danger.
The MRI and CAT scans showed some damage to his skin but no internal bleeding or other effects to his brain. But his good mood had nothing to do with the clean bill of health.
Nothing wrong with my brain, huh? I guess that means that my personality isn’t anyone or anything else’s fault but simply a product of my own self.
Izaya considered the conversation he had before the exam, when he talked to Anri Sonohara about the inhuman. What would have happened if Karisawa hadn’t stepped in to mend the situation? Would Anri have cut him with her sword? Or would she have broken down first?
He had faced down an alien being eating away at a human soul, and if anything, Izaya found the experience to be utterly delightful. But it was not Anri’s inhumanity that excited him—it was Karisawa’s assertion that this creature was her friend.
Ah yes. Karisawa and Yumasaki are so very entertaining. It’s people like them who make the world such a delightful place. He chuckled to himself. What would happen if the majority of people on earth accepted the inhuman like they do? If such beings were able to interact and dwell in the open, would I be able to observe them the same way that I do humans?
He had to admit that he felt disgust at those like Anri Sonohara who decided to abandon their humanity. But aside from her head, he felt almost nothing at all about Celty Sturluson. Izaya’s interest was reserved for all of humanity and what awaited after death.
If death was simply an empty void, that would be the saddest thing he could imagine. It would mean he could no longer hope to observe humanity. But if he could be a spirit of some kind, even if permanently prevented from ever interacting directly with the mortal realm, it would be like heaven to Izaya. That represented the best possible outcome.
But Celty Sturluson had presented Izaya with a totally new set of values.
Spirits or no, Izaya didn’t believe in heaven or hell at all. He didn’t accept any consolidated “new world” that continued after the mortal one. They were just fictions reflecting the finer differences in cultures.
Until a dullahan, a being straight from legend, appeared in Ikebukuro. If she was indeed an inhuman being, and exactly what the folklore stories said, then couldn’t there be a heaven, or a hell, or perhaps the Valhalla of Scandinavian myth and its eternal battleground?
Izaya didn’t desire to go to heaven. He knew that if he were bound for either destination, it was probably going to be hell.
What he wanted to know was what the humans did in this continuation of the world, in their spiritual or soul form. When people committed suicide hoping for permanent oblivion, how would their souls react when told, “Sorry, nothingness was just a myth, your consciousness will suffer for all eternity”?
When people assumed that killing one or a thousand people carried the same sinful weight and were executed for their role in mass killings, how would they react if told, “Sorry, they’re not the same thing”?
And on the other hand, what would you get from those who died terrified of leaving their families behind—“Congratulations, now you can watch over them from here”? How long would they actually observe their families? A year? Two? Ten? Forever? Or would the knowledge that they could do it for eternity actually bore them after mere hours?
The afterlife was an unknown quantity for everyone. What would the people plunged into that world of the unknown think? What actions would they take?
He imagined the possibilities, indulging in his own private bliss, like an innocent child swept up in the world of his dreams.
Meanwhile, the part of Izaya not daydreaming wondered what the police were up to and took out his phone to check the news on the Internet. The sudden buzzing of an incoming call brought him entirely back to reality.
The screen displayed: Ryuugamine, Mikado.
He clutched the phone for several seconds, thinking hard.
Mikado. I haven’t heard from him in a while. I wonder what’s been happening.
Left unsaid was the fact that he had been intentionally ignoring any of Mikado’s attempts to get in touch.
Why this exact moment? Is something going on?
Izaya had just left the hospital and wasn’t aware of the news about Ikebukuro. After several rings, he finally pressed the call button.
“Hello. It’s been a while since I heard from you, Mikado.”
“Oh, um…yes, it’s been a good while, Mr. Orihara.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t answer the phone for a bit. I’ve been very busy with work.”
“No, I’m sorry for bothering you. I know you’re busy…”
With the formalities out of the way, Izaya got right down to business.
“So what is it? Got a problem?”
“Sorry. Actually, I wanted to ask you something…”
Abandoned building
“And what’s that? I might be able to answer it for free, but if it impinges on my business, I’ll have to charge you,” said the voice over the phone, which was just the same as any other time they’d talked. Mikado took a deep breath.
Are you aware of the news about the head? That was the first question, no matter what. But Mikado kept the words trapped in his throat.
After a long pause, he instead asked the question he’d been wondering about since last night. “Mr. Orihara…are you familiar with a person in the Awakusu-kai named Akabayashi?”
“Yes, I am,” he replied instantly. His voice was cheerful, like always. The fact that a teenager was namedropping yakuza lieutenants had no effect on him.
“…Well, this might be a very strange thing to ask, so I apologize in advance if it upsets you.”
“What is it?”
“Was it…you who told him about me?”
And rather than the few seconds of silence that Mikado anticipated after the question, Izaya answered without missing a beat.
“You’re half-right, half-wrong, I’d say.”
“Huh…?”
Izaya had to stifle a chuckle at the confusion in the voice on the other end of the call.
“Remember what I told you before? Out of respect for you, I wouldn’t sell the information that you are the founder of the Dollars. It’s just that there are exceptions.”
“Exceptions…?”
Izaya considerately explained, “One is outside of my business. For example, if I felt like telling a personal friend that you were the founder of the Dollars for their own benefit, rather than as a business transaction, I would do it. Tha
t would be an instance that I thought was in your benefit, too.”
This was partly the truth and partly a lie. When he told Masaomi Kida about the identity of the Dollars’ boss, it was indeed outside of business. But he never considered it to be for the sake of Masaomi or Mikado. It was entirely to suit his own ends.
Outside of that, it wasn’t Izaya who had leaked Mikado’s information to the thug named Horada but Namie. So for the most part, Izaya was telling the truth.
“The second example—and this would be in the case of Mr. Akabayashi—is if the other side already suspected that you were the founder of the Dollars and hired me to collect intelligence that would prove it. I can choose not to tell the truth, but if I simply lied, I would be negating the entire point of my personal business.”
This, too, contained a bit of untruth.
He hadn’t told Akabayashi pure, unvarnished fact. Instead, he said something like, “I never imagined that a student at my old school would be the boss of the Dollars.” He had lied to Akabayashi’s face as part of his business—albeit with the understanding that Akabayashi was smart enough to see through that lie.
But Izaya wasn’t lying about this now for self-preservation. He was setting fire to the rope Mikado Ryuugamine was crossing.
“Do you understand? The moment he came to me, Mr. Akabayashi already had an idea that you were the leader of the Dollars.”
“…”
The only sound through the phone speaker was breathing. Izaya continued.
“In other words, consider that your secret is not actually a secret at all on this side of society. And not just this side. In time, the rumors will hit the public, and by the start of second semester, you might get a tap on the shoulder and turn around to hear a classmate asking you, ‘Is it true you’re the boss of the Dollars?’ as if he can’t really believe it himself.”
“…Yes, I can see how that might happen.”
“So now I have a question for you. Why are you still over there? Just abandon your position and play the part of an ordinary student. I’ve been hearing stories about how you’re teaming up with an underclassman at school and doing all kinds of menacing things.”
Through the speaker he picked up the sound of Mikado chuckling.
“Ha-ha… You really are incredible at this. So you’ve heard about that, too…”
“Let me be up-front and reveal that I know Shizu isn’t a member of the Dollars anymore, and Dotachin’s been in an accident. I can anticipate that you are aware of these things, too. So why are you still there? You know what sort of danger you’re in.”
“…And now the yakuza are aware of me, too.”
“Exactly. This is your last chance. If you hand over the Dollars to someone else and go back to being an ordinary student, the Awakusu-kai aren’t going to have any reason to mess with you. Your name will soon be forgotten,” Izaya said, knowing full well this was never an option.
As he expected, Mikado was silent and did not offer any words of agreement. Then the information dealer put the screws to him with a false argument.
“What’s wrong? Didn’t you want the extraordinary in your life? With what’s happening to you now, wouldn’t an ordinary and boring life actually be more extraordinary at this point?”
“…I believe you were the one who said that in order to taste the abnormal…I either had to accept it or continue evolving.”
“Yes, I did say that. But you don’t have to take my word at face value. You’re the one who makes that choice.”
“I know. Which is why I can be up-front about this. Even if you weren’t pulling any strings behind the scenes…I’m pretty sure that I would’ve ended up in this position.”
At long last, it was Izaya’s turn to fall silent.
But it was not shock at learning his actions were already known. It was a silence of deep-seated, trembling fascination and delight.
“My goodness. You make it sound as though I’ve been sneaking around behind your back,” Izaya said hopefully.
Without betraying any anger or disappointment, Mikado said, “But of course you would be up to something, Kanra. You were the one who told Masaomi about my secret first, too, weren’t you?”
“What if I said you were right about that? Would you scorn me? Would you hate me?”
“…The way you said that tells me it was you.”
Izaya fell silent, a tacit admission. He got a better grip on his phone, making sure he could clearly hear what Mikado would say next. The statement came imminently.
“Thank you.”
It seemed to come out of nowhere. But Mikado’s voice was completely level, not sarcastic or ironic in the least. “If that hadn’t happened, I think I would’ve just kept my secret…from Masaomi and from Sonohara, too. I mean, I know that every human being has a lifelong secret or two…but I’m just a teenager. I’m not strong enough to keep going with my secret identity hidden in my back pocket, like the protagonist of some comic book.”
“…”
“I would’ve been buffeted by the waves of the Dollars and buried it all in the midst of my ordinary life. All the while feeling guilty about hiding it from the people I really care about.”
“And you don’t feel guilty about what you’re doing now?” Izaya asked, suppressing the surge of excitement running through him. “You’re beefing with the Yellow Scarves…and I don’t suppose I need to sell you the details of who leads them, do I?”
Mikado wasn’t shaken by this at all. If anything, his response was almost cheeky. “My guilt is for creating the Dollars, period. That’s why I want to drag the Yellow Scarves and every other bothersome thing involving me into the Dollars so I can reset everything. In video game terms, I guess you’d call it a New Game Plus.”
“Putting things into video game terms? You sound just like one of the kids these days.”
“I am one of the kids these days.” Mikado laughed, his self-mockery apparent through the phone. “I want to take the Dollars back to their original state… Back to the night of our first gathering. To do that, I need to destroy everything clinging to the edges of the group. That’s all I want to do. And that includes the war with the Yellow Scarves.”
“You don’t think that the way you’re trying to take over the Dollars for yourself makes you one of those very clingers?” Izaya teased.
Mikado laughed it off. “Oh, please. This isn’t like you.”
“You think so?”
“I mean, I’ve always been a clinger. It’s why I’m destroying all of it, including myself. Once everything is back to normal and the Dollars are returned to their original state, I want to start something new. Maybe it would be interesting to properly include Sonohara and Masaomi in the Dollars.”
“…”
Yes! Fascinating! He’s the best!
Mikado Ryuugamine, I must confess I’m a bit surprised and in awe of you.
You’re the greatest kind of clown I’ve ever seen. You are humanity itself! I always had a hunch, and it turned out to be bang on!
“Nice! That’s right, you’re human. If anyone is human, it’s you, Mikado Ryuugamine.”
“Huh?”
Izaya was so moved that he didn’t realize he’d spoken that part aloud. “You’re selfish, but you think of others, you commit crimes as a means of penance, you withdraw into your shell in order to change the world. You inhabit so many contradictions, and yet not everything falls under that particular logic—which is what makes you so human, in my opinion. I happen to think that one of humanity’s defining traits is the willingness to switch things up—to step into the crosswalk with your right foot first every single day, then start with your left today, for no particular reason.”
“I don’t know what it is that you see in me, but I’m obviously not human in some archetypal sense. I’m just indecisive, that’s all.”
“Oh, I wasn’t paying you a compliment. You’re indecisive, and yet your ability to act is unparalleled. You act slowly and smoothly but in unpr
edictable ways. Just like a pinwheel firework, spinning very slowly.”
“You’re suggesting I’m destined to explode and die at the end,” Mikado noted darkly.
Izaya stifled a chuckle. “That’s not my call to make. You do understand that I’m only assisting you kids in your struggle to move onward, right? It’s up to you to decide which direction you take that. And while we’re on the topic, Mr. Akabayashi being the one to come from the Awakusu-kai side is a huge opportunity for you. He’s not the kind of person who keeps threatening those who walk away from their side of society. You understand what I mean by that?”
“…You’re saying that if I turn back, it has to be now?”
“Yeah. As your senior in life, I’m undecided at the moment. I’ve got connections to him and the Awakusu-kai, as you know. I could get shot and killed at any moment. I don’t know whether I should take your hand and show you how to navigate the depths of this treacherous sea, or push you back up to the safety of the beach and the sunlight.”
“Mr. Akabayashi said the same thing to me. But where I want to be is neither of those places, I think.”
“Oh?”
“In your analogy, I guess I want to be right at the breaking point of the waves at the shore. I feel like whether ordinary student or Dollars, if I choose just one, I’ll be destined to get bored with it. I’m not looking for life-risking thrills and chills. But I’m also not enamored with boring peace. That’s what the last six months have taught me.”
The boy’s true wishes came through the phone, his voice clearly painted in complex and tangled emotions. The fact that there was still a note of uncertainty present spoke to just how truthful he was being about himself.
“In the end, I just want to keep seeing things that are different from where I am now. So if I could just sit in a boat, right at the breaker, spinning and rocking with the waves…I guess…”
Izaya did his best to suppress his emotion, eyes sparkling like he was about to open the mail-order box he’d been waiting for. “So this is what you’re saying,” he teased. “You always want to be the guy gawking just at the barest margin of safety in all those videos capturing shocking events. You want to be the arsonist and the firefighter. You want to be the scientist who creates the giant monster, then the one to call the superhero for help. You want to cause trouble and get the credit for stopping it. You want to hog all the misery and joy, right from a front-row seat. Like you’re some kind of God.”
Durarara!!, Vol. 11 Page 11