Durarara!!, Vol. 6

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Durarara!!, Vol. 6 Page 18

by Ryohgo Narita


  Next to him, a girl said, “Wait, that’s Rio’s friend. Is she in the kendo club or something?”

  “Huh? Why didn’t you run away?”

  “Because Rocchi’s still here,” said Non, Chikage’s girlfriend (out of many), watching Anri with wonder. But her eyes went wider when she saw what was beyond the girl. “Wow, look at that.”

  Yumasaki followed her suggestion and gazed across the brawl.

  “…Ah.”

  There was a demonic presence walking toward them, carrying a motorcycle.

  When Anri Sonohara’s vision began to clear, and she could sense her surroundings as a human does again, she suddenly dropped into a worried panic, her movement clumsy.

  While she’d been blinded and fighting through Saika’s sense alone, she had somehow been dragged right into the midst of the Dollars’ fight.

  If she was seen, it would cause an uproar. She tried to process that fear and haste as events from within the picture frame—except that one element, the fear that Mikado, Masaomi, or Mika might leave her, reached within her world and delayed her reaction for just an instant.

  Vorona’s leg sweep caught her cleanly, and Anri’s body lurched. The attacker’s knife plunged toward her, certain to land true—until it was stopped, ringing loudly, by a weapon like a cross between a jitte and a wakizashi.

  “…Kabutowari…,” mumbled Vorona, whose mind contained the knowledge of that weapon. She glared at the man who interfered with her fight.

  “Interruption is not good. I will be displeased,” she announced threateningly at Chikage, the interloper.

  He grinned and shook his head. “Look, I like catfights as much as the next guy…but put the blades away. Be a shame to scar those beautiful faces and bodies, wouldn’t it? If you wanna fight, let’s set up some mud wrestling.”

  He couldn’t see Vorona’s face through the tinted helmet, but Chikage’s attitude was determined the moment he could tell that she was female.

  Meanwhile, he held onto Anri’s arm, ensuring that for just a moment, neither woman could swing her weapon.

  “…”

  Who is this man? He is strong…but seems amateurish, thought Vorona, looking up to determine if this meddler was worthy of being her foe. But…

  “…? …?!”

  Her attention was grabbed not by Chikage’s face, but by something she saw over his shoulder.

  A man shrouded in bartender’s clothes, carrying her own motorcycle as he approached. A sight that made her doubt her own sanity.

  Even the others wrapped up in their group brawl, who hadn’t noticed when Anri and Vorona slipped among them, did come to a stop when they saw the stunning sight of Shizuo carrying the motorcycle.

  The members of Toramaru who weren’t familiar with him just stared and murmured in disbelief, while the Dollars who did know to fear Shizuo looked at one another in grave worry.

  The seemingly unstoppable battle came to an abrupt halt from nothing more than the appearance of Shizuo Heiwajima on the scene.

  “Wait, aren’t you…?”

  “Shizuo?”

  Chikage and Kadota muttered. Shizuo surveyed the scene. “I heard…there were girls taken hostage. What happened with that?” he asked.

  His tone was surprisingly placid. Outside of context, you might think he was quite a well-mannered young man.

  Anri heard Saika’s cursed voices swell within her and glanced carefully at her attacker, who was still held in place by Chikage.

  Vorona couldn’t move.

  She could hear the hooligans around them calling this man Shizuo.

  But why was he carrying her bike over his shoulder?

  And how was he able to lift well over two hundred pounds of machinery so easily?

  Slon and Semyon might be able to do it, but probably not single-handedly. And they were big, burly men, not like this fellow.

  Most concerning of all to her was the strange shivering in her body that started the moment she saw Shizuo.

  …What is this?

  Perhaps this feeling, this unfamiliar sensation, was similar to her the way that Anri felt when Saika rose up in excitement at Shizuo’s presence.

  It was the voice of instinct, or perhaps her “soul,” disciplined by years of experience.

  The instant Vorona saw Shizuo, she knew. She knew that this man was an impossible thing, far beyond the bounds of common sense.

  Every cell in her brain sang its urge to fight the man before her, and every muscle screamed to run away.

  An ordinary person could not recognize Shizuo’s danger at first glance. They only came to that understanding once they witnessed his anger, what he could do to a vending machine or car, or came to grips with their own bodies flying through the air.

  But just as certain wild animals are extremely perceptive when it comes to sensing danger, all Vorona’s knowledge and experience told her beforehand that Shizuo meant danger.

  It was the palpable fear of standing before a tank cannon. And in a way, it was also the unreal feeling of knowing that a distant guided missile is pointed your way.

  Vorona was so excited by this unfamiliar combination of sensations that her cheeks flushed.

  “Yeah, we rescued the hostages, thanks to Yumasaki.”

  “I see. That’s good. By the way, whose bike is this?” Shizuo asked casually.

  The rider in the full helmet raised her hand. “Motorbike is mine.”

  “Hmm…? Oh, gotcha. Sorry, I thought it belonged to these hostage-taking scumbags, and I was gonna throw it at them. If it’s not, it wouldn’t be nice to smash it, I guess,” he said, somewhat horrifyingly, and lowered the motorcycle to the ground. “By the way, who are you? You’re dressed like Celty… You know her? In fact…what are you doing over there?”

  He noticed Chikage, standing between the two women brandishing blades, and concluded, “Ah, must be a real sordid situation, then.”

  “No, it’s not like that,” Chikage protested.

  But Shizuo ignored him and continued, “So…which one’s the piece of shit who took the hostages?”

  His voice was calm and orderly. But anyone who knew Shizuo understood what was packed behind that expression. His glance naturally settled on the leader of the hoodlums—he found his suspect.

  “Y-you…you bastards…,” the dumb sap screeched, then went for broke. “So…so what if it was, huh? Whaddaya gonna do about it?!”

  He pulled a butterfly knife from his rear pocket and made a beeline for Shizuo.

  “Diiie!”

  He didn’t seem to know what he was doing with that knife. He swung his arm around wildly as he approached. Shizuo slipped sideways around him and gave him a light punch.

  There was a dull cruk.

  But the knife didn’t fall to the ground.

  The man, who didn’t notice what had happened, tried to stab Shizuo right in the stomach, then realized his weapon was gone.

  “Huh…?”

  Then he saw it.

  His wrist was out of its socket, broken and pointed straight down.

  “Ah…aaaaaaah!!” he screamed, noticing the pain and the state of his hand at last.

  “…Shut up, you scumbag!”

  Shizuo grabbed the man by the collar, bent backward, and hurled him with all his strength.

  “”

  The man flew directly horizontal, parallel to the ground, his scream unable to break free of his lungs.

  The large young man’s body shot forth with even greater force than the human cannonball at the circus—and embedded itself into the fence over thirty feet away.

  He passed out, limbs twisted in an ugly way. Satisfied, Shizuo glared at the remaining hooligans.

  “Yeep!” “O-oh, shit…”

  With their leader defeated, all the Dollars unaffiliated with Kadota scattered to the wind.

  “…Despicable to the very end, huh?” snarled Shizuo as he watched them run, teeth gnashing with the last smoldering embers of his annoyance.

 
Guess I should scamper off and look for that fleabrain myself. I can use the last of my irritation to crush his limbs…

  He decided to just leave—but when he looked up, the woman in the riding helmet was blocking his path ahead.

  “What? You want some—” he started, then felt something poke his chest. “Huh…?”

  It was the gleaming silver tip of a knife.

  Though he wouldn’t have known it, this was the same murderous Spetsnaz knife that had been utilized against Anri moments earlier.

  “…”

  The next second, the knife, which never got more than a fraction of an inch into Shizuo’s chest, dropped to the ground.

  Time stopped for everyone who saw it happen.

  Those who knew Shizuo envisioned the woman’s body flying through the air.

  She had tried to kill him, but that image of the inevitable result popped into their minds before they could even wonder why she would do such a thing, and the resulting fear stopped them in their tracks.

  Only the woman moved within this frozen time.

  She spun away from Shizuo and ran straight for the entrance to the field.

  “…”

  A moment later, Shizuo understood what she had done to him.

  He saw the rip in his clothes and the slight presence of blood—and slowly muttered, “I ain’t into hitting women, and I don’t plan to start…”

  The experience of being stabbed reminded him of the face of the man he called “fleabrain,” and with his teeth grinding, he leaped into motion.

  “…But I hope you’re all right with that expensive-lookin’ helmet being crushed, dammit!”

  Vorona heard the bellow of rage behind her as she ran. She flipped the switch of her helmet communicator on and said to Slon, “I will return in thirty seconds. Request to prepare gun. Quickly, quickly.”

  “Huh? Hang on, what’s happening? Is it the Black Rider?!”

  “Denial. I think it is human. In fact, I hope it is human creature. It is unbelievable, but I am in a state of excitement. I exist in the space between pleasure and fear.”

  “What are you talking about…? Anyway, you say danger’s coming? I’ll open the rear trailer and start the engine!”

  “Understood.”

  At that moment, she saw something pass beside her at phenomenal speed.

  …My bike.

  Her motorcycle shot past her at the same velocity as the man who’d been thrown into the fence. It crashed into a tree, utterly destroyed. Vorona processed all this and kept running without looking back.

  He probably did not intend to hit me. Foolish man. But this is not a foe whom I can ignore…just for being an amateur!

  The mental pressure was incredible. It was like feeling a fighter jet’s machine-gun spray bearing down on her. In an instant, the sweat on her back dried to nothing.

  He is not like the Black Rider. Not like the bespectacled girl.

  He does not possess their eerie alienness.

  He is undoubtedly…human!

  She ran and ran, delighted in a way to feel this terror from a “human.”

  Ran to the truck, to get her equipment and use all her strength to determine the fragility (the toughness) of the human named Shizuo.

  But this unprecedented level of excitement did cause her judgment to suffer.

  She failed to consider one possibility.

  The extremely crucial possibility that another enemy lurked in the vicinity of the truck.

  Near Raira Academy Field Two, rooftop

  What’s going on?

  Celty sensed a faint rustling in the air.

  She thought she might have heard Shizuo bellow and then saw the rear door on the truck below swing open, followed by the sound of something slamming into a wall and disintegrating.

  Wh…what was that?!

  She focused on the scene below with greater alarm—and saw a woman in a riding suit fleeing from the entrance of the field.

  It’s the one from yesterday!

  And then, right behind her…

  Huh? Shizuo?!

  As he chased the woman, Shizuo saw the rear door of the truck parked outside the field swing open.

  He assumed it was unrelated to anything, until she just jumped right inside.

  The truck started to peel off—she was getting away!

  “Oh no you don’t!”

  Shizuo darted around the rear of the roofed truck, hoping to hop aboard it, but in the next moment, he saw something bizarre.

  Right at the helmeted woman’s fingertips was the kind of rifle you’d only see in a movie. He witnessed the scene just at the moment she was going to pick it up.

  But even more distracting to Shizuo was the sight, in the fore part of the truck bay behind the woman, of a young girl trussed up and gagged.

  …Huh?

  He immediately recognized the girl’s face and clothes.

  The word die and the crackle of electricity—the features of their first meeting.

  Akane?! What is she doing here…?

  In the second that he paused, the woman had steadied her gun.

  Oh, crap. I’m gonna get lead poisoning! he thought, which is not what most people worry about when they see a gun. He darted toward the unmanned paid parking lot on the side away from the field.

  A number of metal objects shot through the place where he had been standing.

  There was hardly any sound—it must have used subsonic rounds and a silencer.

  “Tsk…”

  What’s up with these people?! Shizuo thought, half-angry and half-curious. Why is Akane here…? Why would people kidnapping Akane attack me, too? If there’s anything that connects me to her…

  Suddenly, he recalled what she had said that morning: “Big Brother Izaya.”

  …! Oh…of course. That fleabrain tried to use Akane to kill me…and when she failed, he hired someone else to finish the job and silence the girl as well…

  He was not entirely correct about this. But…

  I’ve had enough…

  I’ve—had—enough—of—that—fleabrain’s—shit!

  The vision of his archenemy’s face completely obliterated his attempts to control his rage meter. He looked around for something to grab…

  In a corner of the small lot, he spotted a rusted old car with a piece of paper stuck to the windshield.

  “This car has been abandoned for over half a year. We will soon need to have it scrapped. If you own this vehicle, please contact me at”

  Shizuo flashed an angry smile and approached the vehicle.

  “Request to briefly stop the car, Slon. First shot was evaded. Greater agility than I imagined.”

  “Got it.”

  Vorona waited at attention, gun in hand, watching out of the rear of the truck. He might swing around the side of the parking lot or hop over a wall, but in either case, there was only one direction she could see out of the truck.

  She heard the breathing of the girl behind her and complained, “Was it impossible to at least hide with burlap sack or sheet?”

  He might have seen her. If he gets away and reports this to the police, that will be trouble.

  …Now I have a reason to finish him off.

  …I am happy…

  Belatedly, Slon realized that Vorona was referring to Akane Awakusu and bit back petulantly, “Oh, come on. He’s running around the city on the lam from the yakuza. Plus, it was your idea to come out here…”

  “Quiet. Silence, please.”

  “?”

  Vorona thought she sensed an unfamiliar sound behind Slon’s voice.

  …Just my imagination…?

  The next moment—

  There was a terrific metallic crash, and “something” flew into the street from the cover of the parking lot.

  “…Что?” she mumbled in Russian when she recognized the object. It was the same sound she made when she saw Anri’s body produce the katana.

  In other words, it was just as stunning and unreal, if n
ot more so.

  “Hey…what was that, Vorona?!”

  “…Request we launch vehicle. Quickly!”

  “G-got it,” he replied hastily. He must have seen it in the rear mirror, too.

  In the opening shots of Westerns, one often sees tumbleweeds rolling across the path.

  But this was much larger—a tumblecar, if you will.

  Local residents and witnesses of the event would later describe it thusly: “A blond bartender kicked an abandoned car like a soccer ball.”

  But the only ones who would ever believe them were others from Ikebukuro who had witnessed Shizuo Heiwajima’s legend in the flesh for themselves.

  Vorona had been through many, many experiences in her life.

  But even she had never experienced anything like this.

  Perhaps if her father Drakon or Lingerin, veteran mercenaries, soldiers, and adventurers all combined their past experiences into one, they could react to this situation—but Vorona was simply too young to accomplish this.

  She compensated for her youth with density of experience and knowledge gleaned from books, but even Vorona had never read a book that contained the answer to the question, What do you do when a car comes suddenly tumbling toward you?

  Perhaps the answer was in a video game strategy guide, but Vorona had never touched a video game in her life.

  For an instant, she thought she saw a shadow flit between the tumbling car and the parking lot. Her finger tightened on the trigger by impulse—but then the car was upon her.

  !

  She backed up hastily, just narrowly avoiding where the car fell to earth. The massive bulk of metal clattered and rolled past the truck with a tremendous racket.

  That was close… Where is he?

  The bartender, whom she assumed would be behind the car, was nowhere to be seen.

  ! The car was a distraction!

  She promptly scanned the area, figuring that he had to be hiding somewhere…

  But she didn’t realize what he did.

  Parkour with pure strength.

  Shizuo kicked the car and took off running, using the wall and electric pole to launch himself to the second floor of the apartment building next to the parking lot, then ran along the veranda parallel to the truck.

 

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