Durarara!!, Vol. 6

by Ryohgo Narita

  Just the fact that he was difficult to predict made him a person to be wary of. But even if his motives were unknown, his skill was a known quantity and only improved by his ability to hide weakness.

  Shiki considered other members of the organization, but none of them had enough reason to be considered a lock for suspicion. If anything, in the current situation, everyone was a valid suspect, even him.

  …But why now? When reconciliation between the Medei-gumi and Asuki-gumi is close at hand…

  …Unless that’s the entire point.

  The Medei-gumi, the Awakusu-kai’s parent syndicate, was in the midst of a reconciliation with their longtime rivals in the Asuki-gumi, leading to an eventual partnership and integration.

  The details of that integration were being worked on now, which made it a particularly delicate time to have any weakness exposed. Or put another way, this was exactly the time that each side would be attempting to seize upon the other’s weakness. Of course, if such machinations went too far, the entire reconciliation could be dashed on the rocks.

  …If it got out that three of our men were killed by Shizuo Heiwajima, a mere civilian…that would bring shame upon the Awakusu-kai, if not the Medei-gumi as a whole.

  That was why Shiki had the bodies disposed of quickly and discreetly, without informing the police. If the cops found out and the story made its way to the media, things would turn into a circus.

  Plus, the lurid fact that three men were killed by bare hands, not guns or blades, would drive the media into a frenzy of fascination. If that happened, all their dignity would be lost.

  A plot by the Asuki-gumi to screw over the Medei-gumi…? We can’t rule that possibility out.

  With the resources the Asuki-gumi has, they could easily hire an outside expert in bare-handed combat. Which leaves the problem of Shizuo.

  From what he knew, several of Aozaki’s men had suffered at Shizuo’s hands as youngsters. That was a past they would be dying to erase. In fact, Aozaki had requested the chance for his team to hunt down Shizuo.

  …If Aozaki happened to be pulling strings, then after framing Shizuo as his suspect, it behooves him to eliminate that suspect as soon as possible…

  No. Not good to make so many assumptions.

  The moment that he reached down to pick up his third cup of coffee and sharpen his thoughts, the door to Shinra’s apartment flew open.

  “…”

  He turned warily toward the entrance and saw Celty there with Akane in tow.

  “Oh, Celty! Welcome back! I’m so glad you’re all right!” Shinra exclaimed theatrically, hugged Celty, and rubbed Akane’s head. “And you’re safe, too, Akane. That’s good—you didn’t get hurt anywhere?”

  “…I’m fine. Thank you, Dr. Kishitani,” Akane said with a grin. Unlike her prior fright, this was a truly childlike expression of total relief.

  But Akane’s smile drove shock into Celty’s core.

  What?! How did she get so close with Shinra?!

  “Ah, I see. That’s good. Hey, do you want me to make you some hot cocoa?”

  Celty was stunned by this utterly alien version of Shinra. There was no sarcasm to him at all.

  Is…is Shinra developing a lolicon side…?!

  Owing to his typical weirdness, Shinra’s actions here were not attributed to being “kind to children,” but tragically misconstrued into a much darker light.

  In other circumstances, Celty might have wailed, “Waaah! Shinra, you pedo! Was the only reason you liked a girl without a head because it just made her that much shorter?!” and run out the door…but given the serious nature of the moment, she didn’t reach that level of panic.

  Shinra left for the kitchen to make cocoa, and Shiki emerged to take his place from the dining room.

  “I’m glad to see you safe and well, Miss Akane.”

  “!”

  The little girl went stock-still when she saw him. She looked away, afraid he might scold her, but Shiki was simply happy to see her unharmed.

  “We were worried when you ran away from home…but all that matters is that you’re not hurt. You weren’t in danger, were you?” he said, in the formal tones of a relative stranger, but he seemed very considerate of her feelings.

  Wow…I thought Mr. Shiki was the cold and imperious type all along. I didn’t know he had a gentle side, Celty thought, impressed.

  Akane mumbled, “I’m sorry,” in a barely audible voice.

  Shiki just shook his head. “Save that for your parents first of all. I’ll call them right now.”

  “…You aren’t mad?”

  “If anyone can scold you, it’s your parents. I’ll give you plenty of complaints after that—right now, I just want to be happy you’re all right.”

  He took out his phone, gave Akane a teasing smile, and offered some cruelly playful advice.

  “I would get ready for a slap on the cheek if I were you, miss.”

  At that moment, Awakusu-kai office, meeting room

  With the emergency meeting over, the room was considerably quieter.

  A man wearing a flashy suit held a cane in his right hand and fiddled with a cell phone in his left as he leaned back in his chair. He was checking his e-mail, and with each piece of information that came into his view, he leered happily.

  “…Whaddaya doin’, Akabayashi?” asked Aozaki, who was just passing by the open door.

  “Me? Checkin’ my mail.”

  “Checkin’ your— Do you have any idea what’s going on right now?”

  “Of course I do. And I also know that raisin’ a big fuss on my own won’t do shit. So instead, I’m tryin’ to get a handle on what’s happening out in the city.”

  “Oh. I would have figured they were messages from women,” Aozaki mocked, but Akabayashi’s goofy grin stayed put.

  “It’s real interesting stuff. Even an old fart like me can get all kinds of info from these ‘Dollars’ kids, just by registering for a mailing list.”

  “…Dollars?”

  “Just one of those color gangs around Ikebukuro in the last year. They don’t stand out much—I mean, for cryin’ out loud, the color they rep is ‘camouflage,’” Akabayashi sneered.

  Aozaki snorted. “You must be busy, then. That Kuzuhara motorcycle cop showed up and Jan-Jaka-Jan’s yield dried up, so now you’re beep-boopin’ on that computer, looking for a replacement gang?”

  “…‘Beep-booping on the computer’? What year did you fall out of, Aozaki?” he shot back, then lightened his tone again. “Listen, cell phones are a real handy tool to have around. For example…I just heard back from the guy I sent to help Shiki. Seems they had a little tussle with some motorcycle gang going after Miss Akane.”

  “…What?” Aozaki went pale. “Disrespected by a buncha biker-gang punks…? Did Yodogiri hire those chumps to put up a fight?”

  “From what I understand, when they learned we were Awakusu-kai, they ran off. Can’t catch motorcycles on foot, and Akane’s safe now, so no big deal.” Akabayashi grinned happily. He fiddled with his phone again. “Seems like the biker gang’s from Saitama…and they’re beefin’ with the Dollars.”

  The smile plastered across his face deepened, twisted.

  “Is it really coincidence that Ikebukuro’s goin’ so wild all at once?”

  “And if it ain’t…and someone’s actively tryin’ to make everything here go crazy all at once…then I’d say that’s our cue to stand up, Mr. Aozaki.”

  Somewhere in the metropolitan area, Masaomi’s apartment

  “Hey, Masaomi.”

  The windows were open, bringing the fresh May breeze into the old apartment.

  Inside, a cheery voice well-suited to the spring atmosphere bounced off the walls.

  Masaomi turned away from the window to look down at Saki Mikajima where she was reading a book. “Huh? What is it?”

  “Aren’t you going?”

  “Going where?” He smiled back.

  Beaming like the gentle morning sun, Saki sh
ook Masaomi to his core. “To your friend.”

  “…”

  “I didn’t mean to overhear your call with Izaya, but you were shouting. I couldn’t help but absorb the information. Sorry,” she said in an otherworldly voice. Masaomi’s mouth hung open silently for several seconds.

  He wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.

  Masaomi turned back to the window and stared out for a moment, trying to buy time to calm himself down. He slowly turned back, composing his thoughts—and her face was right there.

  Close enough that their noses could touch.

  The sight of Saki’s smile at such inescapable proximity completely banished all the thoughts from his mind.

  “Ah…”

  He opened his mouth to say something, anything—when Saki turned away from him, then leaned against his back.

  “Wh-what’s that for?”

  The wind brushed her hair, tickling it over Masaomi’s mouth and wafting the scent of shampoo into his face and mind.

  “Are you still scared?”

  “…Yeah,” he admitted, unable to push her away.

  At a distance, the image might be one of a happy couple sharing a sweet moment, but something about Masaomi’s expression and actions was stiff.

  “What are you afraid of?”

  “…”

  “You don’t want to go back and find out that this friend is sick of you, isn’t that right?”

  “That’s not all of it…but I guess that’s basically what it comes down to,” he mumbled, looking up at the ceiling.

  Saki closed her eyes. “It’ll be fine. I’m sure they don’t suddenly hate you, Masaomi.”

  “…How can you be so sure? You don’t even know Mikado or Anri.”

  Saki didn’t flinch in the least at the mention of the feminine name Anri. She spoke like she was soothing a child. “I don’t know them, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “Very optimistic of you.”

  “I don’t know your friends, Masaomi, but I know you. And if you chose them, then I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  “You’re exactly the kind of person who falls for scams, Saki,” he bemoaned, but the smile never left her face.

  “Plus, I don’t like seeing you look so lonely.”

  “…I’m not lonely. I’ve got you,” he said in all honesty.

  But Saki promptly cast doubt on it. “I’m not so sure.”

  “Oh, come on.”

  “After all, I’m your lover, but I can’t be your friend, can I?”

  “…”

  He fell silent. She reached up and grasped his hand resting on her shoulder, then followed up. “But if it just so happens that your friends don’t like you anymore and you’re feeling depressed…I’ll be here to embrace you. That’s my job as your girlfriend.”

  “Saki…”

  “Don’t ever forget that you have a place to come home to, right here. But I’m not the one who can save your friends—you are.”

  She turned herself around and squeezed Masaomi with a playful smile.

  “…That’s right. Thanks, Saki.”

  He looked at her smile and thought about it. Perhaps her innocent playfulness was not a sign of serene wisdom, but something broken within her.

  He got the sense that he himself was broken somehow, too. The cause lay within him.

  He fell from a great height and broke. That was it.

  But just before he fell, someone else most certainly pushed him on the back.

  Or more accurately, pushed him upward as he climbed up to that height, then suddenly let go as soon as the footing became unstable.

  Now that same man was pushing his friend.

  Masaomi looked at the floor, then made up his mind.

  I’m gonna save Mikado.

  That it took Saki’s words and a strong resolve to make such a simple decision was perhaps a sign of his brokenness.

  He smiled back kindly at Saki—and after a minimum of preparation left the apartment.

  To save the friend who turned his back on the ordinary and continually fled toward the center of chaos, Masaomi set off running.

  Into the midst of that very chaos.

  Somewhere in Ikebukuro

  While Masaomi willingly makes his way toward the fray…

  We move to a side street, drastically quieter than the station-facing thoroughfare it spun away from.

  Even in the midst of a crowded holiday, there are alleys in any city that remain lonely and foreboding, but there was a strange density to the crowd found in this otherwise unremarkable Ikebukuro alley.

  When passersby glanced down the alley and noticed the gathering, they just as quickly looked back and continued on their way, realizing that the men belonged to some kind of street gang.

  If this was at the station, the shopping district, or any number of famous locations, it would be reported at once. But they were in an out-of-the-way spot, and it was just a big gathering of gangsters, so people chose the simple path of action instead: Just stay away.

  Of course, if they could see past the wall of people at what was happening beyond, some might risk personal danger to inform the police—and it was precisely to prevent this outcome that they were forming such a wall.

  Inside the alley on the other side of that wall, a girl said nervously, “Um…wh-who are you people…?”

  Next to Rio Kamichika were several girls her age, huddled together in fear.

  It was the very group of girls who had been walking around Ikebukuro after they ran across Anri.

  After leaving their restaurant, they had walked away from the shopping area to find someplace quiet like a park to relax in. Along the way, one of the girls checked her phone and came to a halt.

  “…What’s this?”

  “Hmm? What’s wrong?”

  “H-hey, I just got a bunch of messages from this mailing list called ‘the Dollars’…and isn’t this…us at the end?”

  She held out her phone to show off a picture of the interior of the restaurant where they had just been eating—and there they were, right in the photo.

  “And it says here that they’re looking for you, Non… Do you know what this is about…?” asked the girl with the phone. Just then, it buzzed again with a new e-mail. She opened it and looked at the text.

  “Found the girl. We’re about to have a party together.”

  The attached image was of the sidewalk they had walked down just minutes before—and their backs, directly in view.

  They felt their skin crawl and started looking around. Almost immediately they noticed a pack of men walking toward them. And coming from the other direction, another group of men with a similar air to them.

  “L-let’s get out of here,” one of the girls said, and on cue, Rio and her friends rushed toward a nearby alley. Ultimately, this only trapped them in an even more abandoned place.

  One of the gangsters surrounding the girls cackled, “Who are we? What? You really have to ask? We’re the bad guys.”

  The men were blocking both ends of the alley, leaving no escape.

  “I-if we scream, the cops will be here right away…,” one of the girls threatened, but the men just laughed.

  “Oh, but the fights happening all over are keeping the cops busy, I’m afraid. More importantly, listen up—Non, right?” the same guy teased. He then jutted his chin out in a threatening manner and snarled, “It’s all thanks to your dumb-ass boyfriend flexing his muscle all over the place that the cops are occupied. Get it?”

  “…Rocchi?” the girl said. It was an odd name.

  But Rio and the others recognized it at once. That was the nickname Non often used to refer to her boyfriend. The gangsters wouldn’t know that, but it was clear from context that Rocchi was the boss of Toramaru in question.

  They cackled and leered, slowly closing the circle around the girls.

  “Rocchi, Micchi—it doesn’t matter, bitchies!”

  “Okay, okay, okay, easy, easy, easy, there, t
here, there. All you have to do is come with these nice gentlemen. Yeah? Yeah? Yeah?”

  Their tone was light, but there was a dangerous gleam in their eyes. At this rate, it seemed likely that all the girls, not just Non, would be loaded into a car.

  Non glared angrily back at the men and said in a low voice, “Fine…I’ll go along with you, as long as you let them go—you don’t need them, do you?”

  “N-Non…you can’t do this!” Rio protested, but one of the men brusquely cut her off.

  “Nope, nope, nope. We’re not doin’ that. No can do. If we let the others go, they’ll tell the cops. And then they’ll be right on top of us. Nopesy-daisy.”

  A different man clamped a hand over one of the girls’ mouths.

  “Aa—”

  He was preventing her from screaming. A knife held to her throat made the threat clear.

  “See that? See, see? Raise a fuss, and I’d guess that your friend here’s gonna get slit.”

  The sight of a glinting silver blade against pale flesh immediately silenced Rio and her friends.

  Somehow there was a black van parked at the mouth of the alley now with the sliding door open. “Can you fit five in there?”

  The frightened girls were grabbed by their arms and mouths, a mass kidnapping at the hands of over a dozen men right in the middle of the back alley.

  “Sure, as long as we stack ’em up.” “I wanna get stacked in that, too!”

  “What are you, a monkey?” “I wanna be a part of this exciting live teen girl performance!”

  “Damn, you’re such a creep!” “Hey, you think it’s true that the guy who was with Kadota is Toramaru’s boss?”

  “Yep, for sure. I’ve seen him before.”

  It was a chat.

  The way they were talking as they went about their business was like watercooler talk.

  This matter-of-factness drove home the reality of the situation to the girls and thus began plunging them into despair…

  “W-wait a second!”

  The scene was interrupted by the sound of a young boy’s voice, completely out of place.