When he learned that his father left for suspicious “meetings” every now and then, Kisuke assumed that he was going off to visit a mistress and decided he would blackmail him, despite this person being one of his parents.
But what he saw there was a ritual too grotesque to describe—with the upcoming model Ruri Hijiribe as an unwilling sacrifice.
Grotesque.
That had been his instinctual reaction the first time he saw it, too.
But at the same time, he recognized that thing as a girl with an inhuman air being carved up, body and mind, by normal humans—the familiar hands of his own father.
It was both grotesque and an undeniable source of excitement to him.
Not just simple twisted lust. He was consumed with an almost unbearable desire to make every part of her his.
And especially not his father’s.
He wanted to beat and defile that goddess of a girl with his own hands, to scoop out her heart and destroy everything that she was.
Kisuke Adabashi loved another person for the first time in his life at that moment—if you could call it that.
With his eyes veiled by love and admiration, he followed Ruri Hijiribe. And in the moment that his father was murdered by the serial killer Hollywood, Kisuke instantly understood.
It was none other than Ruri Hijiribe who had committed the deed.
It was nothing other than the alien, superhuman power that dwelled within her.
The instant he realized this, his admiration turned to worship.
However, his worship was not of Ruri herself, but the feeling of completeness and liberation that would come when he destroyed her. To Kisuke Adabashi, pure pleasure itself was God.
And to him, Ruri was like the Holy Mother who gave birth to what was sacred.
A man helped guide him to the Dollars’ website.
Right after his father’s funeral, he attempted to make contact with Ruri Hijiribe through his own means—running into the police on some occasions and earning the caution of a number of talent agencies, who spread his information between them.
But one day, after several months, a man reached out to him.
The very root of evil who had brought Ruri Hijiribe and his father together: Jinnai Yodogiri.
Through his help, Adabashi steadily dipped his toes into that sordid part of society, and with the information Yodogiri provided, he now effectively led the entire community of stalkers targeting Ruri Hijiribe.
It was a social place where they could all exchange information, a group within the Dollars’ website that almost no one was aware of. Only those scant few members could view the board, and they recruited by posting offers to sell secret photos of Ruri Hijiribe on the normal Dollars’ communities and watching the reactions closely to detect the scent of more of their “kind.”
Because the public-facing community was self-run by a man using the nickname “Red Carpet,” it didn’t stick out much. From there, anyone who bit on the original sales pitch could be lured to the first secret website, and from there, to more lurid and obscure places until the group had isolated the right kind of people.
These were people who would commit any crime for Ruri Hijiribe, up to and including killing the girl herself.
Adabashi never expected to recruit around ten such people in total. A number of them were already identified and blacklisted by show business companies; the entire website gave off a distinctly dangerous vibe.
Or perhaps it was just something about Ruri Hijiribe that was able to drive human beings to madness…
There was no answer to this question, so Adabashi simply and faithfully acted on his desires.
The stalkers worked on their alibis and slowly but surely closed in on Ruri.
All of them were aware of Ruri Hijiribe’s “alien” abilities, though it wasn’t clear if all of them truly believed those powers existed. But only Adabashi knew about her Hollywood secret.
That stimulated his sense of superiority and drove him to a greater degree of madness.
Destroy.
Destroy Ruri Hijiribe.
With my own hands.
In a sense, it would be impossible to physically destroy the serial killer Hollywood.
But Adabashi had an idea.
If the destruction of Ruri’s body and mind was what gave birth to Hollywood, then couldn’t he just destroy that killer’s mind, too?
The photograph Yodogiri had provided to him, he sent on to her current agency.
After a bit of time, he was going to send it to publishers and spread it over the Internet.
He could have been doing that today, for that matter, but he had other business.
Ruri Hijiribe and her lover, Yuuhei Hanejima, were starting to worry about the stalking, and they appeared to be seeking advice from acquaintances and family.
He’d been wary of the Headless Rider’s cohabitant at first, but he turned out to be nothing but a wispy, soft man in a coat. After delivering plenty of nonlethal damage, Adabashi whispered, “Ruri Hijiribe is mine,” into his ear.
If the man had any consciousness left, that information would soon reach Ruri’s ears. Around this point, the other people involved with her would be suffering similar attacks from members of the community.
What a shame. I would have liked to deal with that cat, too.
But Yodogiri had a request about the Headless Rider, so he couldn’t defy that command. In order to utterly destroy Ruri Hijiribe, in order to utterly love her, the man’s help would be necessary.
Adabashi’s mind understood this, but his heart swirled with twisted desire still.
Cat. The cat Ruri Hijiribe held.
I want to grind it into paste.
I want to love it in Ruri’s place.
A girl from Raira Academy took Yuuhei Hanejima’s cat home with her, where she apparently lived alone. Whatever their connection was, if he “destroyed” the girl and killed the cat, how much damage would that inflict on Ruri Hijiribe?
He was utterly jealous of the companion who got to perform that act, but then he considered that his pent-up desire would be unleashed by destroying Ruri herself. His eerie hissing laughter echoed through the streets of Ikebukuro.
Just then, Ruri’s singing voice emerged from his cell phone.
Adabashi allowed the song to play, indulging in it until he eventually picked up the call and savored the abrupt end of her voice, as always. But this time, his pleasure was ruined by a near scream coming through the phone.
“It’s not—it’s not what you said!”
“?”
He recognized that voice. It wasn’t Yodogiri.
It was the very man Adabashi envied—the other member of the community who was tasked with destroying the cat and the girl.
He was a former salaryman who wore a suit everywhere, and his voice screeched with what could have been taken as either pleading supplication or fury.
“Y-y-you screwed me over! What was that?! Who were those masked people?!”
“Masked…?”
“They—th-th-they ambushed me! I was trying to set the girl’s apartment on f-f-fire! And then they rushed me…… Aaaaaaaah, here they cooooome!”
“Hey, what happened?! Hey!” he shouted at the phone, but a scream was his only reply. Before long the call dropped.
“…”
Something was going on.
That much was clear.
Had Ruri Hijiribe hired bodyguards to protect the cat?
Or was it someone else connected to her?
Adabashi considered a number of different options, then banished the thoughts and leered.
The most important fact he had learned from that call was that the girl and cat were still unharmed.
“Shehhh, shehhh,” he hissed eerily, heading toward a nearby parking lot.
There he found his car and started driving it directly toward the girl’s apartment.
Despite the danger that his companion had been in, he was utterly delighted.
Near Russia Sushi, Sunshine Street
“What do you mean, we’re being followed? Some street thug?” Tom asked Vorona, keeping his voice low as they continued walking.
“I cannot provide a conclusion. But it is not the professional act of a career soldier or assassin. Extremely amateur work, but caution is advised.”
Without turning his head, Masaomi focused on the sounds his ears were picking up, while Shizuo swiveled his eyes back and forth, an eyebrow raised in skepticism.
Despite it being the onset of night, they were in the middle of the shopping district, which was as crowded as ever. Tom reset his glasses irritably and cracked his neck.
“…Either they’re victims of Shizuo who are looking for payback or someone angry at me for collecting on their debt… In either case, they aren’t going to try anything with so many people around. We can ask the boss at Russia Sushi to let us out the back. Then we can slip around and see who’s watching the…”
Vorona cut Tom off mid-speech. “Here it comes.”
“Huh?” he squawked.
Vorona spun around. There was a man approaching with something in his hands, but her abrupt movement caught him by surprise, and he froze.
That confusion lasted only a second, but that was all Vorona needed. And even if he hadn’t been startled, she still would have had the initiative on him.
“Wha…? Bwaoah!”
Her kick snaked around his body and caught him hard on the flank. A small chemical bottle dropped from the heavyset man’s hand. The cap was already open, so the liquid spilled onto the ground and the tips of his shoes.
“H-hyaaah!” he shrieked, desperately trying to remove his shoe as he clutched his bruised side. Based on the way the liquid bubbled and hissed at the toe of his shoe, it was probably some kind of acid.
“Whoa, are you tossing acid around in public? You gotta be kidding me.” Tom groaned.
Shizuo’s forehead vein pulsed. “You son of a bitch… What were you gonna do with that bottle? Huh?”
He took a step forward and reached out with one hand to lift up the heavy man—just as Masaomi noticed another person approaching Shizuo out of the corner of his eye.
This one was a short man carrying a sharp ice pick.
Whoa, whoa, whoa! Are you serious?!
“Watch out!” Masaomi shouted, darting around to cover Shizuo’s back. He lifted his leg in a front kick to drop the man before he could swing the pick down—but the next moment rendered that action meaningless.
Another boy rushed in on the attacking man from the side and drove a stun gun directly into his flank.
“………nnzz-z-z-buh-buh-buh!”
The high-powered Taser caught him right near the kidney. The man’s muscles crackled and convulsed, and he fell writhing to the ground, still holding the ice pick.
This mysterious new boy grinned in satisfaction, then raced off without a word.
Huh? Who was that?!
Masaomi watched the boy run away, totally baffled, until his attention was drawn to a certain object that made his pulse jump to double the intensity.
It was a bandanna wrapped about the boy’s neck, detailed with a shark-teeth pattern.
Masaomi felt every hair on his body stand on end.
It wasn’t fear. It was pure shock that jolted his entire being.
Was he…a Blue Square…?
Before he could even process everything he was feeling, Masaomi had turned to Shizuo’s trio and shouted, “I’m sorry! I’ve got to go now! I’ll come back and talk to you again sometime!”
He bowed and raced off after the kid with the bandanna.
“Huh? Hey, wait,” Tom started to say, as he was wrenching the ice pick out of the short man’s hand, but Masaomi ignored him.
He recalled his reasons for returning to the city.
Why are they helping Shizuo?! Altruism? Are they plotting something?! Infighting…? Or is it just a coincidence that he had the same bandanna as them? What if I’m totally mistaken…?
Shit! I can’t get tripped up by this…now!
Masaomi dispelled the various questions that plagued him and focused on his pursuit of the boy.
There was no guarantee he would find the answer at the end of this.
But he had to keep running.
Goddamn Blue Squares…
What the hell are they plotting this time…?!
Anri’s apartment
When the text message alert went off, Anri stopped playing with Dokusonmaru for the moment and picked up the phone.
It’s from Celty.
Was she wondering how the cat was doing? Anri checked the message, expecting something trivial.
“Shinra hurt stalker here be careful Anri”
“?!”
The message had clearly been written in a hasty panic. Anri’s blood turned to ice.
She wrote back, “Are you all right, Celty?!” and glanced out the window.
For now, nothing seemed off. She thought she’d heard a noise outside earlier but had paid it no mind.
After watching and waiting for several moments, the message response arrived, still in the same minimal shorthand.
“I’m fine just took Shinra to hospital be careful Anri”
I wonder what happened…? I hope Dr. Kishitani’s all right, she thought, then realized the culprit could be after Dokusonmaru and focused on the window again.
Why would this stalker be so intent on destroying their peace of mind?
Why would the stalker hurt the person they loved so much?
It was a different kind of stalking activity than what Mika did, and Anri couldn’t understand it. Then she gasped, looking down at herself.
They cannot love without hurting…
She lent an ear to the voices of love chanting in her mind and murmured to herself.
“I guess…it’s like Saika.”
Ikebukuro
Masaomi raced through the neighborhood, chasing after the boy who resembled one of the Blue Squares. The boy glanced back at him as he ran, realizing he was being chased.
Masaomi was reminded of the past tragedy of his own making.
Don’t stop running.
His overwhelming fear of the Blue Squares had prevented him from saving someone precious to him. He’d kicked off that conflict, and yet he wasn’t able to leap into the middle of it.
Don’t…stop!
Bit by bit, his legs were starting to protest. He hadn’t sprinted in a long time.
Damn, I guess physical education was a more important class than I gave it credit for! he lamented, feeling the cost of quitting high school early, but he kept his pace after the Blue Square jockey.
The youth ahead of him ran out of the shopping district and did not come to a stop until the area was devoid of people.
“…What’s up with you?” he asked Masaomi, mouth covered by the bandanna.
Masaomi came to a stop several feet away, hands on his knees, panting and heaving. “Look…I don’t know what’s going on, but thanks for helping out back there.”
“…Doesn’t seem like you came sprinting after me all that way just to thank me.”
“Nope…and sorry if I’ve got the wrong idea…but are you from the Blue Squares?”
“!”
The boy did react to the mention of the name.
“Guess that’s bingo.”
“Who the hell are you?” he demanded, suddenly cautious and with a hint of hostility.
Masaomi took a deep breath to steady his lungs and then stared the other boy directly in the eyes. “First the Yellow Scarves, now the Dollars?”
“…”
“What are you up to? Who’s leading you guys? Did Izumii get outta juvie?” Masaomi demanded, one question after another in rapid-fire.
Underneath his bandanna, the Blue Squares kid sneered. “You got somethin’ to
do with the Yellow Scarves?” he spat.
“…What if I do?”
“Your age is over. And let me make it clear: I was helping the guy in the bartender outfit, on orders. I wasn’t saving you.”
“I’m relieved to hear that. That means I can hit you without worrying about who owes whom what. So you might want to answer my questions before it turns into a fight,” Masaomi menaced, shaking out his wrists. “Because I’ve got plenty of stuff to settle with you guys, going back.”
“Well, well, look who’s a hotshot. If you think you’re that tough—”
The mocking boy’s eyes drifted slightly off of Masaomi’s face.
Then his sentence was finished by another youth bearing down on Masaomi’s back with a baton.
“—then let’s see some proof!”
The police baton hurtled down at Masaomi.
Near Anri’s apartment, Tokyo
“Hey, did you find the arsonist?”
“He was a slippery bastard.”
A number of young men were wandering around a narrow alley. They wore bandannas and ski masks adorned with shark-tooth patterns and had been on the move searching for someone, but they were now getting tired and slowing to a walk.
They’d strayed quite a ways from the shopping district, and the back alley was surprisingly empty for being in the middle of the crowded metropolis.
“What’d Aoba say?”
“He should be searching around here, too…”
“Hey, there’s a car. Get over to the side.”
The youths all moved to the edge of the alley, but the car coming down the narrow road turned off its lights and decelerated.
“?”
It came to a stop right in front of them, and the driver killed the engine.
Something was wrong.
It made no sense that the car would stop in the middle of the alley to begin with. They’d all moved out of the way, so why wouldn’t it continue past them? Why stop right in front of a pack of dangerous hoodlums?
As the boys chewed on these questions, a man emerged from the car. He was thin, but beyond that, his age and demeanor were hard to determine from the streetlights.
Durarara!!, Vol. 8 Page 14