Durarara!!, Vol. 8

by Ryohgo Narita

  Ruri Hijiribe was hiding under a hood, but Adabashi recognized her at once. He stopped pacing and leered cruelly downward at her from his high vantage point.

  But he did not leave his position; he merely continued to monitor the location closely.

  Suddenly, a number of men appeared about sixty feet ahead and behind the trio, traveling along with them—bodyguards, clearly.

  “…”

  They’d probably been hired by the production agency that managed Yuuhei and Ruri. All the bodyguards were hardy and menacing, and even with the large gap between them and the trio, it would clearly be difficult to attack Ruri now.

  But Adabashi was not in a hurry.

  He knew:

  That he could not attack Ruri Hijiribe now, whether she was under guard or not.

  He knew:

  That standing behind Ruri and Yuuhei was the most famous brawler of Ikebukuro.

  He knew:

  That if he somehow was able to attack Ruri Hijiribe alone, he would likely be defeated.

  Because he also knew:

  That Ruri Hijiribe was a monster.

  Adabashi followed Ruri’s progress from the rooftop with his binoculars.

  Once he had confirmed that the trio were empty-handed, he made a shhhheh sound through his teeth.

  His unique laugh repeated quietly and steadily as he looked at the screen of his phone.

  How did he get it? Did he take it himself? It was a photo of the same group heading to this same apartment.

  The resolution was crude, but he could make out a pet carrier in Yuuhei’s hands and what looked like a little kitten riding on Shizuo Heiwajima’s head.

  Next, he switched to another photograph.

  This one was of an article in an entertainment magazine, which featured a picture of Ruri wearing a gloomy smile and, standing next to her, Yuuhei in his usual expressionless state. Normally, talent agencies preferred to cover up evidence of their stars’ romantic flings to preserve their meticulously managed images, but in the case of Yuuhei and Ruri, they decided that it would actually boost their profiles. Apparently, the president of the agency had shopped around the idea for the article to the tabloids.

  In the picture, Ruri was clutching an adorable kitten to her chest. The caption under the photo read, “That’s Yuuhei Hanejima’s lucky cat Yuigadokusonmaru being lovingly caressed in Ruri Hijiribe’s arms!”

  “Dokuson…maru.”

  The carrier bag and the cat itself had been there when they came to this apartment building. But after leaving the building, they had neither.

  Adabashi turned back to the building across the street and slowly let his gaze slide up it from the street level. When he confirmed that the only window with lights on belonged to the top floor, he hissed with laughter again: “Shehhh, shehhh.”

  Kisuke Adabashi.

  He knew:

  That Ruri Hijiribe was the serial killer Hollywood.

  He knew:

  That Ruri Hijiribe had killed his father.

  But he did not hold a shred of hatred toward her.

  If anything, he loved her with all his heart.

  At least, according to his own definition of love.

  He knew:

  That he could not love Ruri Hijiribe by destroying her body.

  But he could destroy her heart.

  And he knew what to do in order to achieve that goal.

  He stared and stared at the top floor of the building, hissing with laughter all the while.

  It was like a musical fanfare celebrating the fulfillment of his love.

  When his laughter subsided at last, Adabashi logged in to his special online community within the Dollars—and began to spread his pure, malicious love.

  The sky to the east continued to brighten.

  The sun would rise soon to shine upon him.

  He silently left the rooftop with that in mind.

  His only thoughts regarding how he would love Ruri’s precious cat and the people who were taking care of it.

  A blissful smile spread across his features.

  The next day, morning, Shinra’s apartment

  “…So why did you call me here?”

  It was the day after the gloomy night at Shinra’s apartment. The one giving voice to her curiosity was a girl dressed in casual clothing—Mika Harima.

  “We just figured that if we wanted to know about stalkers, we should turn to you.”

  The girl looked at Celty’s outstretched PDA screen and acted so stereotypically outraged that she might as well have had cartoon puffs of smoke coming from her ears.

  “What a horrible thing to say! I am not a stalker!”

  The young man at her side sighed and corrected, “No, you were a stalker.”

  “Exactly! Like Seiji says, I was a stalker!” she pronounced with a proud smile, changing her tune on a dime.

  Annoyed, Celty typed, “Well, I just gave you the situation. I was wondering what sort of defenses we could mount against a stalker… For example, is it easy to break the locks on newer apartments like this one?”

  “Huh? Oh, don’t be silly, Celty. The locks on this apartment aren’t new at all.”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to go outside, and you lock the door behind me! Wait in here, Seiji! Knowing you’re inside will give me extra motivation!” Mika hurried out of the apartment.

  “Your friend is very, um, active,” Celty typed to Anri, after locking the door.

  Anri smiled. “Yes, she’s really unbelievable.”

  “…Well, yes…in a way…”

  Meanwhile, the doorknob started rattling and turning. From the other side of the door, Mika could be heard saying, “There are a bunch of ways you can get through these older locks. Even a child can learn to use a thumb-turn rotator or a bump key after a day of practice. You should really buy a new lock. You might want to ask your landlord if you can switch to an electronic key… There!”

  The door clicked, and a second later, it swung open.

  —?!

  “That was quick!” Shinra exclaimed.

  “Y-you did that all while you were talking? How is that possible?!”

  “Sorry, trade secret. Besides, Celty, can’t you trickle your shadow into the lock, then make it firm to act as a key? That’s way more unbelievable than what I can do.”

  “You might have a point there, but—” Celty protested, while Shinra considered the issue.

  “Hmm… What do you think, Celty? Maybe we should put some serious thought into changing the locks. Or should we just move?”

  “Good question… But it was a whole lot of work to come up with a convincing story for the landlord and the people in the floor below, so I’d prefer not to repeat that process,” she typed, showing it to Shinra. Then she cleared the screen and wrote a new message for Mika. “Are you sure that other people can do that as easily as you just did?”

  “Only if they practice at it. But you can just look that stuff up on the Internet now. It’s a scary time to be alive. You’ve got to take care of yourself!”

  Anyone who knew Mika personally would think, “Speak for yourself!” but Anri merely smiled uneasily, while Seiji averted his eyes with a sigh.

  “I see…”

  Celty recalled when Aoba first visited her two and a half months ago. He had been waiting outside the apartment then, but the thought of him getting inside to wait for them gave her the chills.

  Shinra sensed her unease and clapped his hands. “Well, I suppose I can at least ask the landlord about changing the lock. I can say that Shizuo forced it open and broke it.”

  “That’s kind of a cruel thing to say.”

  “Well, he’s already destroyed our handrail on the stairs and our cups. Anyway, we can pass this anti-stalker advice on to Ruri and Yuuhei, so let’s eat lunch and take our time discussing the matter. There’s not much to eat here, so I’ll grab the delivery menus… Wait, where did they go?”

  “I think the new ones are still in the
newspaper slot.”

  Celty and Shinra headed toward the dining room in the back. Anri was about to follow them when Mika tapped on her shoulder.

  “Hey, Anri.”

  “?”

  “How’s Mikado doing?”

  “Wha…?”

  Why would she suddenly ask about Mikado? Anri looked back at her, slack-jawed, totally confused.

  “What about Mikado?”

  “Nothing. Just wondering if you’ve made any progress. Have you kissed yet?”

  “K-kissed…? Mikado and I aren’t like that,” Anri protested, turning red.

  Mika cackled and leaned in. “Oh, come on, I’m teasing you! But you’ve noticed that he likes you, right?”

  It was a direct question, but Anri couldn’t answer. She just hung her head.

  “…”

  “Well, that’s okay. Just come and ask me anytime you have questions about stuff—anything at all! As long as I’m not doing anything with Seiji, I’ll give you advice!”

  “That’s not exactly an unconditional guarantee,” Seiji grumbled.

  But Anri couldn’t bring herself to say anything. She merely said, “Thank you,” with a rare, warm smile.

  That day, reception room, Jack-o’-Lantern Japan Talent Agency, Higashi-Nakano

  “Okay, okay! I like that you’re here ahead of schedule—that’s good! No wonder you’re our top piggy banks, our money trees, our premier talent! Our other kids should take a page from your book: humble even after success!”

  The fluorescent lights bounced softly off the polished white floor of the office building, giving it a clean, crisp look. But the atmosphere clashed with a voice that was neither clean nor crisp.

  The man had white skin and slicked-back blond hair, dark sunglasses and facial stubble, a white suit and crocodile-skin bag, expensive rings and a thick cigar in his mouth—the Hollywood image of a fat-cat villain if there ever was one.

  This odd fellow was Max Sandshelt, president of Jack-o’-Lantern Japan, and he rarely ever spoke at less than full excitement.

  “From what I hear, you’ve been waiting for twenty minutes. Well, that’s fabulous. You make your boss feel like a real big shot! Is this like that story about the time Monkey Hideyoshi warmed up the sandals of Shogun Nobunaga while he was a servant? Wait…what if Mr. Yuuhei and Miss Ruri warmed up sandals with their own backsides…? Wouldn’t that bring in a fortune if you sold ’em online?!”

  “There is a high likelihood that your sales pitch will be shot down, so I recommend scrapping the idea—unless you are hoping for the board to relieve you of your duties, sir. As far as the meeting time is concerned, you were twenty minutes late. They arrived exactly on time. Please learn from their example,” said his secretary, her words so cold they chilled to the bone.

  “…”

  The man winced, then walked over to Yuuhei and Ruri—who were standing in front of the sofa in the middle of the room—and clasped their shoulders, one hand to each person.

  “Hey, time is a minor detail. Compared with the full thirteen-point-six-billion-year history of the universe, twenty minutes doesn’t even exist. Time is money? Yes! Exactly! But life isn’t all about money. You know? What’s truly important is heart and soul! These money-grubbers, you can see the sickness in their faces. How are you gonna be the singer beamed into everyone’s living room looking like that? My point is, don’t complain about me being twenty minutes late!”

  Then he gasped, realizing something, and turned around to face his secretary. “Hey! I think I may have just said something profound! Write that down!”

  “Your excuse for being late?” asked the secretary, her gaze icy, but she did jot down a note.

  Yuuhei was as expressionless as ever while his bizarre employer carried on, but Ruri looked around uncomfortably, unsure of how she should be acting.

  I’m still not used to how…excitable he is…

  Despite that, she didn’t dislike him. If anything, a personality this large was just the thing to help her forget the nightmares from her previous agency.

  Max snapped his fingers in a sign to his secretary. She placed a document envelope on top of the reception desk, bowed, and left the room.

  “?”

  As Ruri watched, Max picked up the envelope and said gravely, “Er, Mr. Yuuhei, do you mind turning toward the corner of the room? I’m not sure if you should see what I’m about to pull out from this envelope. But I still want you to listen, so focus your ears back behind you. Okay?”

  “Okay,” said Yuuhei. The megastar followed the odd instructions without a complaint, turning to face the wall.

  “? ? ?”

  As the question marks piled up over Ruri’s head, Max took a photograph from the envelope and handed it to her facedown.

  “We got this in the mail yesterday, along with a very familiar extortion note. Probably from that stalker of yours.”

  “…!”

  “Maybe the best option is not to show stuff like this to our brightest stars, for your own safety…but my stance is always to come clean and find a solution ASAP. I want your help so we can turn this stalker in or bury him in the darkness forever,” Max said. He seemed to feel no hesitation about bringing up the s-word topic around Ruri. She nervously took the photo and turned it over.

  “…? …!!!”

  The instant she recognized its contents, she gasped, the breath caught in her throat, and her skin went an even paler shade of white. Max started to ask her something, then found that her response confirmed his suspicions.

  “So it’s real. It didn’t seem the same as those obvious fakes scattered around our shoot locations, so I thought it was best to check, just in case.”

  “B-but…how…?”

  Her eyes were fixed on her own image in the middle of the photograph. Her body trembled.

  Dozens of seconds passed in silence. To Ruri’s senses, the moment felt several times, ten times as long.

  Max shrugged and muttered, “The longer this silence goes on, the more Mr. Yuuhei looks like some kinda Japanese ghost in the back… It’s freakin’ me out. At any rate, you have any idea who might’ve sent this photo?”

  “Um…before that…”

  “Hmm?”

  “Can I show this to Yuuhei, too?”

  Yuuhei came back from the corner of the room when they called him. Ruri looked down at the floor and handed him the picture.

  “…”

  He looked it over in silence.

  In the center of the blurry photo was a woman, obviously Ruri. Despite her eyes being covered, that pale skin and her attractive features were identifiable at a single glance.

  The setting of the photo was a room in some kind of building.

  A window was visible, but the blinds were closed, so you couldn’t see outside.

  There were numerous strange details.

  Hardly any furniture of any kind in the picture.

  A blue canvas sheet on the floor instead of a rug.

  Men in suits surrounding her, all of them wearing some kind of mask.

  And strangest of all, blood dripping from Ruri’s wrist, which one of the men was collecting in a wineglass.

  For the several seconds that Yuuhei held the photo, Ruri flashed back through her memories of that horrible event.

  The color of her blood.

  The men laughing.

  And…the sight of her father.

  The images flickered through her mind one after the other, snippets of statements ringing in her ears.

  “This is her?”

  “I’ve seen her in the magazines.”

  “I’m getting too excited for my age.”

  “This isn’t a game, Mr. Adabashi.”

  “Hmm…but is it true?”

  “Well, there is indeed something otherworldly about her features.”

  “We gave her a ‘routine health test’ that indicated her true nature.”

  “Actually, I’m excited enough that I don’t even care if she’s hu
man.”

  “Mr. Adabashi, please control yourself.”

  Shall we give it a test?”

  “Are you sure, Kujiragi?”

  “I don’t mind.”

  Along with the sound of the voices, she also felt the returning sensation of something cold being inserted into the flesh of her arm. Right after the cold came searing pain that shot up and down her spine, causing convulsions from brain to toes.

  Why me?

  Why this?

  Why is it happening?

  All of the whys bounced around her head. Only the intermittent flashes of agony told her body that this wasn’t merely a nightmare.

  “…Incredible. The wounds just close right up.”

  “Especially now. It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Does she even age?”

  “We won’t know except through the passage of time.”

  “But it’s worth a test.”

  “Where did President Yodogiri find her?”

  “He recently learned about the Hijiribe bloodline.

  “The house was burned, and she was gone…

  “But he saw her photo in a film magazine by chance.

  “The resemblance was so striking, he had to check.”

  “And the tests were positive?”

  “Very, very lucky, that Yodogiri.”

  “You need luck in this line of work.”

  “It’s good to hear that her cells are special, even within the family.”

  “Do you suppose that means…we have a chance, too?”

  “Want to try sucking her blood, just to see?”

  “Then you’ll all be accomplices.”

  A variety of voices rattled as her memories jumped through time.

  The part where they sipped her blood, as shown in the photo, was only the very beginning.

  More images, sickening just to think about, popped into her mind before vanishing again.

  All the while, echoing in her brain was the soft and horrible voice of Jinnai Yodogiri.

  “Hello there, Ruri. You’ve got another meeting with Mr. Adabashi’s group today.

  “You don’t want your monstrous identity to be revealed, after all…

  “And you certainly don’t want the rest of the world to know what they’ve done to you, do you?