Durarara!!, Vol. 8

by Ryohgo Narita

  Sharo: I’ll just ask: Is anyone in here a member of the Dollars?

  Bacura: Right after we all agreed not to pry into private affairs, lol.

  Sharo: Oh, come on, Dollars affiliation or not should be fair game.

  Chrome: I’m in the Dollars. Registered in name only, though.

  Kid: Same for me, I registered but nothing else.

  Bacura: Whoa, whoa.

  Saki: Then me and Bacura will have to sign up next time.

  Bacura: Nope, not gonna happen, lol.

  Sharo: I’m curious about them myself. Someone I know takes part in the group.

  Sharo: So what’s the honest scoop? Do the Dollars get chicks?

  Sharo: Because I will Doll up in that place to get some.

  Bacura: Doll up, huh?

  Chrome: Do you suppose that stalker story is really true?

  Chrome: It’s scary to think that some of the other people who took our very same registration are criminals.

  Chrome: And it doesn’t sound like there’s any movement within the Dollars to turn in the culprit.

  Kid: Well, I’d be fine with handing over a report if there was actual evidence.

  Chrome: It’s true that there seem to be multiple little communities within the Dollars currently. I hear that some folks are acting like a real gang, picking fights, mugging people, even running scams.

  Kid: It’s an unpleasant time we live in.

  Chrome: Around May, there was that crazy incident where the yakuza and some college group tried to kill each other.

  Chrome: The college students were using the Dollars’ name as a front to sell drugs or something. Several of their members were actual Dollars.

  Kid: I see.

  Kid: You think there are people like that within the group?

  Bacura: Let’s not start talking about this violent stuff right off the bat.

  Bacura: Why can’t we just discuss interests first?

  Bacura: Like your favorite date spot in Ikebukuro.

  Saki: Are we going to Ikebukuro?

  Bacura: No comment.

  100% Pure Water: My recommendation would be Tokyu Hands!

  Bacura: That’s a good one. You can spend all day there without getting bored.

  Chrome: If you want to avoid boredom, the Seibu Loft Department Store is good, too.

  Sharo: Well, they’re nice for not being bored, but those aren’t real date spots.

  Sharo: Rather than a date spot, I’d prefer a location where I can meet girls easily in the first place.

  100% Pure Water: Like a hostess club?

  Sharo: Not exactly. I like those, but what I’m looking for is a bit different.

  Chrome: What about a dating website?

  Sharo: Is that a date spot? Were we not talking about date spots?

  Kuru has entered the chat.

  Mai has entered the chat.

  Bacura: Oh!

  Chrome: Good evening.

  Kid: Nice to meet you.

  100% Pure Water: Hey, nice evening!

  Chrome: Good evening.

  Mai: Good evening.

  Mai: Yay.

  Mai: There are lots of people.

  Kuru: Well, well, it is lovely to encounter so many new and familiar names at once.

  Mai: It’s lively.

  Mai: I’m happy.

  Kuru: Then perhaps I shall start by offering a topic of discussion. Just minutes ago, it seems you were all abuzz with the matter of Ruri Hijiribe’s stalker and the possible connections to the Dollars… From what I understand, there is somewhat of an internal struggle happening within the Dollars.

  Kid: Internal struggle? Didn’t know about this.

  Chrome: I haven’t seen any information to that effect on the boards I watch, either…

  Kuru: I am speaking of the real world. It seems that about two months ago, some mugging gentlemen who name-dropped the Dollars were attacked by another group of Dollars. The details are contained in a weekly tabloid that goes on sale tomorrow, and I acquired an early copy.

  Kid: Is this true? I find that interesting.

  Kid: What’s the story?

  Bacura: I don’t know if I can believe that.

  Bacura: For one thing,

  Bacura: If it’s an internal war,

  Bacura: How does that work? It’s not like the Dollars function as a typical gang…

  Saki: Settle down.

  Chrome: I’m getting excited now.

  Sharo: Hey, if a bunch of worthless thugs want to wipe each other out, that’s fine by me.

  100% Pure Water: I’m scared. What if Chrome and Kid get attacked, too?

  Mai: Nia

  Bacura: Nia?

  Kuru: Please excuse that. Mai rolled over laughing next to me. She probably dropped her chopsticks onto the keyboard.

  Kuru: At any rate, the Dollars are like the history of Japan itself. In the past, it was a kind of primitive communism, a vague organization that helped one another and shared information. But as the various factions within the Dollars settled into establishment, the various communities within the group began to wield their power. Thus, like the Warring States period of Japan, you have a number of smaller nations coming to life within the whole of the land.

  Kuru: Among them, you had a nation that was particularly violent, until it was crushed by a team of elite warriors. Little is known about this elite gang, except that their one feature is the use of ski masks and bandannas with a striking shark-teeth design. They seem to be imported.

  Bacura: Uh.

  Bacura: Are you serious?

  Kuru: What is the matter? Does this ring a bell?

  Kid: Oh yeah, I’ve heard of that, too.

  Kid: Those are the caps that an old gang from Ikebukuro used to wear, the Blue Squares. Only a small number of them, though.

  Bacura: Must be a coincidence.

  Sharo: What’s the matter? Does someone you know wear a ski cap like that?

  Bacura: No,

  Bacura: I was mistaken.

  Chrome: More importantly, we have many newcomers here today, so why don’t we continue the introductions?

  100% Pure Water: Okay, how about we list our favorite movies?

  100% Pure Water: Mine’s the Blair Witch Project!

  Kid: I like pretty much anything.

  Bacura: My favorite is,

  .

  .

  .

  Chapter 2: Reality @ Idealism

  Apartment building rooftop, Ikebukuro

  While Celty was caught between the worries of a girl and Shizuo’s cat troubles, a boy who didn’t realize what he was putting Anri Sonohara through was busy smiling at a group of other boys.

  “I’m really glad that nobody got hurt,” Mikado Ryuugamine said, grinning serenely. “But don’t go out of your way to put yourself in danger.”

  He was addressing a group of about half a dozen youths on what looked to be the roof of an apartment building. One of the group was acting as its representative in talking to Mikado, while four others lounged around the rooftop, paying little attention to the goings-on. The only light on the eerie nighttime scene came from the faint rooftop illumination.

  Relieved that they hadn’t suffered any serious injuries, Mikado exhaled and asked, just to be certain, “And anybody who didn’t show up today is fine, right?”

  The youthful boy facing him, Aoba Kuronuma, grinned. “Mm-hmm. None of my guys are that stupid.”

  “Stupid is a pretty cruel word to use for getting injured,” Mikado said with a grimace.

  Aoba looked down at the shark-tooth-patterned hood in his hand and said, “I’m impressed that you knew where those guys were working.”

  “Yeah…I looked into their Dollars community. I needed Mr. Tsukumoya’s help, though.”

  “That’s the weird guy who pops in and out of the message board, right?”

  “You shouldn’t call him weird. He’s quite successful, written books and everything.”

  Shinichi Tsukumoya was a member of t
he Dollars, as well as a writer of a number of guides to the neighborhood under the title Ikebukuro Strikes Back.

  Mikado had never met or seen him, so he had no idea what Tsukumoya’s real name, age, or even gender were, but after contacting him the other day, Tsukumoya was able to tell him which community corresponded to the folks who were mugging people using the Dollars’ name.

  He used his administrator status to view the conversation there, identified a few of the users, and had them monitored so that he could take action against them.

  All Tsukumoya did was find the original board, and Mikado didn’t tell him his plans after that. Perhaps the man could sense the boy’s intention, but he hadn’t come back to say anything about it.

  Mikado was the only one of the original Dollars still around from the group’s founding, but he considered Tsukumoya to be a member from a very early stage.

  I wonder if he was there at our first meetup last year, he wondered.

  Meanwhile, Aoba’s smile was gone. “Hmm… Well, if you trust him, then that’s all right, I guess…”

  As a matter of fact, Aoba was attempting his own research into the man named Tsukumoya, but no one in the Dollars seemed to have actually met him in person. That led Aoba to believe that he was someone who would only claim Dollars membership online, and thus wasn’t worthy of overt caution.

  The real problem was the name Mikado mentioned next, that of a man who actually involved himself in the Dollars’ affairs in reality.

  “If I could talk with Izaya Orihara, that would be great…but I can’t get in touch with him lately.”

  “…”

  “There are still many folks whose backgrounds I don’t know about yet. I bet I could learn a lot from Mr. Tsukumoya, but I don’t want to keep bothering someone I don’t even know in real life. I’d rather pay money to Izaya, if it comes to that. I wonder what’s up with him…”

  “Being an info agent is a shady job, right? Maybe he got stabbed by a yakuza and buried already,” Aoba joked, looking aside.

  Whatever had happened in the past to cause his attitude, it was clear that the look in Aoba’s eyes was full of hostility toward Orihara, no matter how he tried to hide it. Did Mikado recognize the subtle shift in the other boy’s expression? Either way, he shrugged and said, “You really shouldn’t say something like that, even as a joke. He’s really helped out a lot with some of the Dollars’ problems.”

  Mikado Ryuugamine had forgotten something.

  “Don’t get involved with Izaya Orihara.”

  He’d received that warning from his best friend on the very day he moved to Ikebukuro.

  But others he’d heard warnings about, like Shizuo Heiwajima and Simon, turned out to be nicer than first expected. So perhaps he couldn’t be blamed for overlooking his friend’s advice.

  And perhaps some of the benefits Izaya had brought to Mikado had sapped the critical functions of his brain, like sweet poisons. Just as they did to Masaomi Kida when he was leader of the Yellow Scarves.

  So Mikado didn’t yet realize that Izaya Orihara was a man who posed a danger to him. If he’d been suspicious of Izaya, he might have looked into the man’s past.

  Perhaps he would have learned what Izaya once did to Masaomi Kida—or what Izumii, Aoba’s older brother, did to Masaomi.

  If he had done these things, he most likely would not have partnered with Aoba Kuronuma and his friends. Ironically, perhaps it was because Mikado felt that Izaya Orihara was a friend—Aoba’s sworn enemy—that he was joining forces with Aoba at all.

  I wonder how much Mikado knows about the fight between the Blue Squares and the Yellow Scarves?

  That was a constant question within Aoba. Did he know everything already and was just using them for his own ends with intent to betray them at the very end?

  …No, that’s too far outside of my expectations.

  From the very beginning, Aoba and Mikado’s relationship was supposed to be one of using and being used.

  Where he went wrong was assuming that ultimately he would be able to gain a leg up on Mikado, but that seemed unlikely to happen at this point.

  He hadn’t underestimated Mikado Ryuugamine. If anything, Aoba had made contact with him specifically because he highly valued the boy’s abilities and connections. But until the incidents of Golden Week happened, Aoba had assumed that due to Mikado’s naive, simple nature, he could win control over him in the end.

  But then he had realized:

  The simplicity within Mikado was shrouded in some kind of thick madness.

  “By the way, did you hear the rumors that there’s a Ruri Hijiribe stalker…within the Dollars?” Aoba asked bluntly.

  Mikado gave him the exact same smile he always did at school. “Yeah, I did.”

  A smile.

  One of unbearable gentleness.

  Neither fake nor wicked.

  Just a plain old, typical, pleasant smile.

  As Mikado Ryuugamine said the usual statement…

  “We need to get people like that out of the Dollars as soon as we can.”

  Luxury apartment, Ikebukuro

  It was just after midnight that the ringtone played on Adabashi’s cell phone.

  A Ruri Hijiribe song echoed off the walls of his apartment.

  He listened to several seconds of that voice, that crystalline, heart-throbbing voice.

  Wavering, savoring, he pressed the call button.

  When Ruri’s voice abruptly stopped, he put on a sticky, smeary smile.

  “Hello? Hello?”

  “…Oh, it’s you,” Adabashi replied, and the man on the other side reacted with relief.

  “Ah! Thank goodness. You always pause before you start speaking on the phone, so I can never tell. I’m just curious, is there a reason for that?”

  “…I am busy savoring.”

  “Pardon?”

  “I savor the abrupt ending of Ruri’s voice. By my hand.”

  “Okay,” the other voice said, nonplussed. Adabashi recalled the sensation in his fingertip and ears from moments earlier and let delight twist his entire face. A burning desire leaped deep in his stomach.

  “The sound of Ruri’s voice, that soul-shaking beautiful voice, clicking off with the flick of my thumb, as if being crushed, her entire existence being flattened. I am savoring that very moment, so it is perfectly natural for my voice to emerge only once that moment is done. Isn’t that right?”

  The person on the other end of the line replied to this clearly insane comment with a hasty “Uh, yeah, sure, I understand. But I can’t possibly match the depth of your love, so I only understand it halfway… It’s amazing, Mr. Adabashi. You say the same things as Father.”

  “Don’t compare me to that terrible excuse for a father,” Adabashi spat, clearly annoyed. He narrowed his eyes and continued, “Not to a worthless man who would sleep with some total stranger of a woman—neither Mom nor Ruri—and get himself easily killed by Ruri herself.”

  “Well, actually, as you may already know, Ruri Hijiribe is no ordinary woman. Father’s murder was actually quite—”

  “That’s not what I mean. The murder isn’t the problem. If anything, I’m jealous,” Adabashi said, recalling the sight of his father’s death with slack features. “The problem is why Dad was sleeping with some stranger. I could understand sleeping with Mom. She’s getting up there in years, but whatever… But if he’s going to sleep with anyone else, it should be Ruri. How can you sleep with another woman when there’s Ruri? It makes no sense.”

  “Aha! Yes, you’ve got a point there. I quite understand,” said the other person.

  “So,” Adabashi asked, “what do you want?”

  “Oh, nothing much. I told you before how I could sell you Ruri Hijiribe information before anyone else, if you did something for me. I was wondering if I could call in that favor now.”

  “…What is it?”

  “It seems that Ruri Hijiribe has made contact with the Headless Rider of Ikebukuro. I don’t know ho
w they’re connected or what she wants…but when you reach out to Hijiribe, I would appreciate a report of everything you might learn about the Headless Rider. Just a report is fine. I’ll even slip in a bonus if you can throw an extra challenge at the rider, assuming you can get away afterward.”

  As the man spoke smoothly, Adabashi raised an eyebrow. “Is that supposed to mean this Headless Rider is stronger than me?”

  “Well, if you were…let’s say…what was that one fighter’s name? If you were tougher than that Traugott fellow who won that whatever-it-is tournament, that would be one thing. But I don’t suppose you’ve seen the Headless Rider in person, have you?”

  “…”

  As a matter of fact, Adabashi had seen the Headless Rider on several occasions.

  But they were all during simple rides through the city, where one’s strength or weakness was impossible to determine.

  He’d heard the stories about eerie inhumanity, however, and from the way this man was talking about them, the rumors were likely true.

  “…So what’s with this Headless Rider?”

  “Oh, it’s just that the rider’s activities have grown more overt lately. I’m getting many messages from my clients wondering if it’s the real deal or not.”

  “…”

  “I run a business, so if someone shows up and needs my services, I have to leap into action and achieve certain things. So I think it’s time that I get a proper assessment. There’s also the fact that I had some personal work interrupted…work that was supposed to help guarantee my safety.”

  Adabashi didn’t know what he was talking about. He didn’t particularly care, either.

  Ruri Hijiribe had made contact with the Headless Rider. Whatever that ultimately meant, he still had only one goal:

  Whatever impediments might or might not appear, he had to achieve his love for Ruri Hijiribe.

  “Well, fine. If you learn something more…something about Ruri, tell me…

  “You gotta tell me…Mr. Yodogiri…”

  Parking lot, Ikebukuro

  “Must be nice not to have anything to do like you guys, while Kadota’s busy working the night shift,” Togusa said from the driver’s seat of the dormant vehicle, peering through the rearview mirror to the back, where Yumasaki and Karisawa sat.