Durarara!!, Vol. 13

by Ryohgo Narita

  “What?” She drew her eyebrows together.

  “Celty Sturluson,” Shinra said.

  “Huh?”

  “That’s the name of the woman I love. I want to go see her, but I’m wondering where I should go to do that,” he explained, looking up at the sky.

  “That’s the name of the Headless Rider, right?” Manami asked.

  “She’s a dullahan. I don’t know exactly everything that’s happening…but I have a feeling that she might have recovered her head.”

  “…”

  Manami’s dull, cynical eyes darted away. She was the one responsible for taking the head from where it had been safe.

  “She’s probably back home by now, right? Izaya told everyone that the Headless Rider had the memories of home in her head, and her role, and all that old information.”

  “If that’s true, then I’d make preparations right now to leave for Ireland.” Shinra tottered along, gazing up at the sky, bliss making his features slack. “But Celty is still in this city. I can tell.”

  “How?”

  “The sky…it’s the same color as Celty.”

  “Huh?”

  Manami looked up with him.

  There was nothing there.

  No starlight.

  No moon.

  Not even the atmosphere reflecting back the dull glow of the surface lights, that feature unique to large cities.

  Manami was used to that light, so the abnormal darkness of the sky was eerie to her.

  Shinra looked up at it with eyes like a boy talking about his dreams for the future. “Just knowing that Celty’s somewhere up in that sky means that I have no reason to stay locked up in my house.”

  “…”

  “I don’t even care if she never comes home. I’ll go to her instead.”

  It was the kind of thing that a stalker might say, but Shinra’s red eyes sparkled crisp and clear as he said it. Manami found herself ever so slightly jealous.

  “…I envy you a bit.”

  “?”

  “I don’t have any forward-looking dreams like that. I only want to torment Izaya Orihara,” she said, admitting her hesitation for the first time.

  But to her surprise, Shinra said, “Really? That sounds like a wonderful dream.”

  “Huh?”

  “I mean, of all things, ‘tormenting Izaya’ is a huge dream. It’s quite forward-looking. In fact, making him absolutely regret doing something might be a more difficult dream than getting elected to the Diet.”

  She didn’t know how seriously to take the man’s statement. “Aren’t you normally supposed to stop someone when they say something like that?” she asked him.

  “Did you want the normal answer? For one thing, whatever humanity does to Izaya, he’s earned every last bit of it. I guess Celty might say something like ‘It’s a waste to become a murderer for someone like him. Just half kill him instead.’”

  Shinra was so smitten, he could inject Celty into his answer to a completely unrelated question from a stranger. He gazed up at the starless sky like an innocent child.

  “My dream is very simple. I want to continue to love the person I love forever. I want to be with her forever. That’s all. I’d like for my beloved to be happy forever, too, of course, but that will always be second place for me.”

  “…Sounds obsessive, like something a stalker or abuser would say.”

  “I agree. But if anything, I’m the recipient of domestic violence in this relationship,” Shinra said, his cheeks dimpling as he thought back fondly on the times that she’d hit him. “But what I’m about to do might be far worse than any punching or kicking you could imagine. Still, I have to do it. Otherwise everything I’ve said to Celty up to this point will be a lie.”

  He looked mournful about this but turned it around into a smile again as he looked up once more at the sky.

  “Even if it means Celty with her memory back is going to kill me.”

  Interior of building under construction

  Kujiragi kept her distance as Vorona and Mikage Sharaku stared each other down. She felt an eerie disquiet in her breast.

  It wasn’t her own senses. It was something that she felt through the Saika under her command. But she wasn’t holding it directly at the moment, so the sensation was dull, indirect.

  “…”

  In any case, the woman wearing the dogi was not the kind of opponent you wanted to fight barehanded.

  She considered going back to retrieve the Saika she was using to restrain Celty Sturluson, but if she left Vorona to fend for herself, there was a very real possibility that she would lose.

  And just when she thought about suggesting retreat to Vorona, she felt a subtle vibration in her suit pocket. Recognizing the rhythm of an incoming call to her cell phone, Kujiragi took it out and looked at the screen without emotion.

  When she saw that it said “Karisawa (Cosplayer ),” she inclined her head in curiosity. When they’d traded numbers, she hadn’t thought the girl was the kind of person to insensitively call in the middle of the night, and she couldn’t imagine what kind of emergency would necessitate it.

  “Don’t you want to answer your phone? We can wait, if you want,” said Mikage, blocking the way to the stairs with a confident smile.

  Kujiragi ignored her and put the phone to her ear. “Kujiragi speaking.”

  “Oh, Miss Kujiragi?! Thank goodness…You’re all right!”

  “?”

  Why would she need to be “all right”? Kujiragi wondered.

  The voice on the phone continued, “Listen, Miss Kujiragi! I just managed to escape myself. Stay away from the Ikebukuro Station area! If you can, flee to Saitama or Chiba!”

  “…You sound rather flustered. What is it that you escaped from?”

  “More street slashers…uh, dozens of people with red eyes! No, hundreds! This guy who seems like their leader mentioned your name and was talking about burying you and attacking you and stuff!”

  “…”

  Kujiragi stayed calm, but this did cause her look to darken.

  The Saika-possessed? Me?

  Would it be Haruna Niekawa or Anri Sonohara? But she said the leader was a “guy,” and that didn’t make sense.

  “…What would you say this man’s features were?”

  “Um… He had a fancy nightclub-host-style haircut, and he was talking to that long-haired girl—you know, the one with you and Sonohara at the cafeteria in the hospital. But she was saying weird stuff to the guy, like ‘Yes, Mother,’ and it just didn’t make any sense…”

  “…”

  Takashi Nasujima.

  Based on that information, that was the most likely identity of the Saika-possessed. He was a pawn originally created to keep Izaya Orihara’s pawn Haruna Niekawa in check or bring her over to this side.

  But since Izaya had destroyed her “Jinnai Yodogiri” system and there was no longer any need to watch out for Haruna in particular, she had essentially let him go loose.

  I thought I gave him some menial task to keep him occupied and out of trouble, though… Did he overturn Saika’s curse somehow?

  In order to break Saika’s control and use it at will, one needed mental strength that surpassed the cursed words that poured in through a cut from the blade.

  I would not have pegged that Nasujima man to have that kind of mental fortitude…

  But Kujiragi underestimated Takashi Nasujima’s powerful self-love. She wasn’t able to accept that he could overcome Saika’s power on his own. And yet, if Haruna Niekawa was calling Nasujima “Mother,” then at the very least, he must have “overwritten” Haruna’s Saika curse at some point.

  And beyond that, the talk of a swarm of Saika-possessed in Ikebukuro’s streets was worrying. If they were going to make a kingdom of Saikas on their own, she was content to let them do it—except that Karisawa said they were definitely talking about going after her.

  “I’m sorry to have worried you. Thank you. Please get away from there at
once, Karisawa.”

  “I will. The red-eyed people aren’t surrounding me anymore, so I think I’m all right… Just be careful. I’ll do whatever I can to help, so call me back if you need anything!”

  “…Your concern is appreciated.”

  She hung up the call, then considered what her next move should be, given the arrival of this unexpected enemy. Should she break through here, or at least remain inside the building long enough to confirm the ending of her primary foe, Izaya Orihara? Or should she put off ascertaining this fight and rush to eliminate the trouble surrounding Saika?

  After moments of thinking, however, the path forward made itself clear in an unexpected direction.

  “Oh? What are you doing here?”

  “?” “?” “!”

  Three women turned in the direction of the voice and saw a freakish figure wearing a gas mask.

  “Huh? You’re the guy I see talking with my brother at the gym sometimes.”

  “Ah, then you must be Eijirou’s…I mean, Shingen Kishitani Mk. III’s little sister.”

  “Mk. III…?” Mikage asked, a question mark floating over her head.

  Shingen continued talking to an audience of himself. “The first one is wise! The second is refined! And the beauteous peony, that walking lily, is Mk. III! A beauty that grows in the telling, you might say! Fortunately, unlike that dried-up husk of a young man, this sight is a much more attractive one. They often say that three women gathered together is a cacophony, but this is looking more like fisticuffs than anything else, no?”

  “If you don’t explain why you’re here, I’m going to footsie-cuff your jaw until you drop like a stone.”

  “I would prefer to be kicked in the buttocks instead… But that aside, I was coming here to speak with Kujiragi. Thanks to you two, I didn’t need to climb all the way up the building. Thank you for that,” Shingen said, completely oblivious to everything else going on.

  But rather than looking displeased, Kujiragi asked, “What did you have in mind?”

  “Well, that wire you used to tie up Celty returned to its katana form and fell to the ground. I was going to ask if I could have it.”

  “You will need to pay an appropriate price for it.”

  “I’m glad you brought that up. See, if you agree to overlook my invocation of the finders-keepers rule, I am willing to neglect reporting you for illegal possession of a weapon. In fact, I’ll even be willing to ignore the fact that you set that horrid stalker upon Shinra to injure him,” said Shingen, choosing to give up on avenging his son.

  Kujiragi replied, “While that was Jinnai Yodogiri’s suggestion, I will admit I bear some fault for authorizing it. But I will not be giving up Saika at this moment.”

  “Listen, let’s go outside and talk. You were just coming down, weren’t you?” Shingen said, which struck the three women as odd. They shared a look.

  “Your suggestion is unclear. I desire a rendezvous with Sir Shizuo. When the situation is so close at hand, the reason to descend the building is nonexistent,” said Vorona, speaking for the group.

  Shingen made a grandiose pantomime of looking confused, given that his face was covered by the mask. He chuckled and said, “Actually…both Shizuo and Izaya jumped down onto the street and left quite a while ago.”

  An unpleasant, clammy breeze blew between the three women.

  “…”

  “…”

  “…Huh?”

  Mikage stood at the center of the staircase, arms folded, head tilted to the side. Sweat trickled down her cheeks.

  Shingen shook his head theatrically. “Was that Japanese too difficult for you? Shizuo! Izaya! Not here! Go back to town. Human, good-bye. Shingen, no tell a lie.”

  “Do I need to kick your face in?” Mikage asked, vein twitching on her temple.

  Shingen waved his hands and backed away. “Now, now, not so fast. I apologize for joking around, but I’m telling the truth when I say they’re not here anymore.”

  His breath exhaled from the exhaust port of the gas mask.

  “Besides, do you think that a true battle to the end between those two could be contained within a single building?”

  Out in the city

  The only way to describe the vending machine was “unlucky.”

  It just so happened to exist along a street that Izaya ran down and happened to be the one that Shizuo decided to pick up and throw.

  It came crashing and bouncing into the darkened street. Izaya dodged it with inches to spare, but he wasn’t moving as sharply as he usually did, perhaps because of his painful fall.

  Normally, he might have shaken off Shizuo’s pursuit by now. But while he could still hop over fences and up electric poles in parkour fashion, he simply wasn’t as fast as normal. Because he was only barely succeeding at staying away, Shizuo had the occasional opportunity to strike, and a little part of the city was destroyed each time.

  If it continued for long enough, it might be classified as a small-scale natural disaster, but the police had not yet showed up to curtail their chase. Not because they were sleeping on the job, however.

  Every available officer on the Ikebukuro force was already occupied with a different matter.

  The rooftop of a mixed-use building, Otowa Street

  “Mikado… Is that you, Mikado?!”

  Of the many emotions in Masaomi’s voice, joy at their reunion was overshadowed by the confusion of not yet being certain of what was happening.

  While Masaomi was dazed with shock, Mikado smiled sadly. “It has to be a question?” Then something occurred to him. “If I were you, I’d say something like ‘Then who am I?’”

  Masaomi gasped with a start, chuckling. “Multiple-choice question. One, Mikado Ryuugamine. Two, Mikado Ryuugamine. Three, Mikado Ryuugamine…right?”

  He grimaced, thinking back to the day that Mikado came to Ikebukuro.

  “And you completely ignored that joke of mine.”

  “I still think it was a terrible, embarrassing attempt at humor.”

  “What was it again? √3 points?” Masaomi’s grimace gradually turned into a smile. Tears bloomed in his eyes. “Mikado… It really is you, Mikado…”

  “Who else would it be?”

  “I dunno… I just can’t believe it. I wouldn’t have expected to see you right behind me, out of nowhere…!” Masaomi shook his head, finally recognizing the situation, filled with joy at their reunion. “Oh…that must be it. I guess Rokujou must have cleared it all up already, huh?!”

  That was how Mikado knew to come here. He’d been told this was the place where the hostage would be handed over, Masaomi guessed.

  Except that Mikado immediately proved him wrong.

  “I’d guess Rokujou is over by Tokyu Hands right now, fighting with Aoba and his friends.”

  “…Mikado?”

  “I did give them bats and stuff, but he’s not going to be that easy to beat, is he?” Mikado said, with that same familiar smile. Masaomi’s joy immediately flipped over into concern.

  “What…what do you mean?”

  Then Masaomi remembered.

  He remembered when his old friend here had set fire to the man who’d tried to attack Anri. He had smiled then, too, right after he’d nearly burned a man alive.

  With that same smile now, Mikado said, “Rokujou isn’t the type of person who takes hostages and demands a deal. I had a hunch that he was playing up the villain role in the hope that you and I would meet.”

  “…”

  “With the Dollars’ information network, I found you and Rokujou right away. I had Aoba’s friend follow you guys. And another person I sent to Tokyu Hands said that Toramaru didn’t appear to be setting up an ambush around there.”

  “Ha-ha…wow, you Dollars really are something else. It’s the middle of the night!”

  “It just means that many of the people wandering around the city at night are part of the group,” Mikado said.

  Masaomi couldn’t even take a step closer
to him. Normally, if he were meeting an old friend again, he might have rushed over to share in the joy. Perhaps they’d replay a scene from some movie about the inspirational struggle of growing up, where he’d punch his friend and then say, “Hit me back!” Perhaps he’d smack his friend’s shoulders, happy to see him safe and sound.

  But Masaomi couldn’t move.

  His experience as the leader of the Yellow Scarves, the senses he’d honed by living through street battles, caused him to falter and stay away from his friend.

  That was Mikado Ryuugamine over there, all right. But something about him was fundamentally different from the Mikado he knew, causing Masaomi’s joy to steadily morph into doubt and suspicion.

  No, this is wrong. If you run away now, it’ll be exactly the same as before.

  He held his ground, swearing to himself that he wouldn’t flee this situation, too.

  “Then I guess there was no need for me to have shown up as agreed over the phone, huh?” Masaomi said with a shrug, trying to keep the conversation going.

  Mikado just shook his head. “It seemed like the perfect opportunity.”

  “?”

  “I wanted to show you something, Kida.”

  “Show me…?”

  Masaomi thought it odd that Mikado was switching between calling him Masaomi and Kida, but the content of his words was more pressing right now.

  “Well, you didn’t actually see the first meeting of the Dollars, did you?”

  “…True. I heard the stories, though. In fact,” Masaomi said self-deprecatingly, “considering it now, I must have looked like a real clown when I came to all excited, saying, ‘Hey, Mikado, did you hear about this?’”

  “Yeah… Sorry, Kida.”

  “?”

  “I know it’s a little late to be saying this, but I’m technically the founder of the Dollars.”

  “…Wow, that is really late.”

  It was something that Masaomi had known for quite a while now, but when he heard it from Mikado’s lips, the truth took on a heavy mental weight.

  “I told myself that I’d only say it when Sonohara was here, too…”

  “So why don’t we call Anri up? She called you, didn’t she?” Masaomi asked. He looked at his own phone. The call he’d gotten was long expired. There was a message on the screen saying, “Call received: Saki Mikajima.”