Durarara!!, Vol. 9

by Ryohgo Narita

  Within a few seconds, Izaya was back on his feet some distance away, a knife now in his hands. He looked at his attacker cautiously but wore a smile on his lips. “Ah, good. From the look on my sisters’ faces, I thought it might be Shizu at first.”

  “I see. And will that be your last will and testament?” said his opponent, a man in a black dogi with facial stubble.

  Mairu spoke to the man with obvious familiarity. “Master, why are you out here?”

  “You girls stay back. I’m going to kick your brother to the curb. I don’t think you want to see your family member beat to crap.”

  The man—Mairu’s martial arts teacher, Eijirou Sharaku—cracked his neck and took a threatening step toward Izaya.

  “Who, this guy? We don’t care…”

  “…Affirmed…” [Yeah.]

  “I guess it was foolish of me to expect familial love from either of you,” Izaya snapped, his cheek twitching.

  But his sisters weren’t done. “But to you, me and Kuru and Mom and Dad are no better than strangers when it comes to your targets for observation, aren’t we? If you’re going to treat all of humanity exactly the same, you can’t expect your family to love you back!”

  “…Sad…” [What a sad man.]

  “This isn’t the time or place for that— Whoa!”

  He had to lean away to avoid another fierce kick from Eijirou. They were attacks that any beginner to martial arts would be helpless to stop, but with all his concentration focused on the task, Izaya was just able to dodge and hold a conversation at the same time.

  “Doesn’t seem to reflect well on your profession that you’re attacking an amateur out on the street, Eijirou.”

  “So, you’re going to claim that a guy who can dodge my attacks and carries a knife around with him is just a harmless amateur?”

  There was naked, deadly malice in the karate master’s repeated attacks, but his face didn’t reflect it. His eyes were tired and annoyed, as if everything in the world was just a bother to him. “And what kind of guy forgets what he did to a man’s beloved sister and just strolls right past that man’s dojo expecting to be treated well?” he snapped.

  “It’s a public street, isn’t it? And I don’t remember any permanent scars being left on Mikage.”

  “Whether you violated her or not isn’t the point. It was that damn mouth of yours that caused her to quit school! Or have you forgotten about that?”

  He wasn’t Shizuo Heiwajima, but Eijirou Sharaku was certainly dangerous to cross.

  And more to the point, if Shizu spots me getting into trouble here, I’m screwed.

  He knew it was time to extract himself from the situation and decided to exploit his foe through dialogue.

  “If you want me to feel the same way you did, then I’m not the target of your revenge. It should be my sisters, right? Just go to them and use your clever wits to convince them to do whatever it is you want. Then you might just get me to double over.” Izaya chuckled.

  “How could you, Big Brother Iza?! You’d sell your own sisters?! Plus, doubling over is what you do when you’re laughing!”

  “…Sinister…” [You’re the worst.]

  “And this is coming from the sister who told me to die so that she could meet her favorite celebrity.” Izaya snorted.

  But Eijirou did not find any of this funny. He glared at the other man with those sluggish eyes of his.

  “I wouldn’t dare mess with a precious pupil of mine, even if they’re related to the scum of the earth.”

  “Master…”

  “And in another five years, when your body has properly ripened, then I might think about it!”

  “Amazing work, Master! You shifted my opinion of you from shining to rock-bottom in three seconds!”

  Eijirou did not reply to Mairu’s “encouragement.” Instead, he assumed the odd, unique stance of the Rakuei Dojo, preparing to continue to assault—when a third party’s roundhouse kick hit him on the back of the head.

  “Gwuh?!”

  The kick wasn’t at full power, so Eijirou merely fell forward rather than passing out. When he understood who’d kicked him, he shouted, “M-Mikage! What the hell was that for?! Don’t tell me you’ve still got a thing for him!”

  It was a tomboyish woman with short, spiky hair. There was cool anger in her expression as she surveyed her older brother and said, “Listen to you, out in public yelling about me being violated or whatever… Are you simply the type of person who cannot learn the concept of delicacy and propriety unless it kills you?”

  “N-no, wait! I understand the theory that the only good me is a dead me, but are you sure it’s true?! Consider the source of your information before you allow false rumors to lead you astray!”

  “Shut up, you moron. Fighting in the middle of the street? Are you completely dedicated to destroying our reputation?”

  “Oh, and I suppose sucker kicking your brother in the back of the head makes you a paragon of honor?!” Eijirou protested as he got to his feet.

  “A martial artist should be on battle footing in all his daily endeavors, right? You’re going to complain that you couldn’t sense a sneak attack?”

  “You think that means you’re allowed to just do anything you want to me?! What’s next? Are you gonna headshot me with a rifle from a rooftop and say, ‘This is a battle, not a game. Guns are fair play’?! I suppose then some little kid could light Traugott’s house on fire, and that would make him the new fighting champion of the world! Wow, this be-ready-at-all-times philosophy sure is wild! Wait, where was I going with this…?”

  “First of all, he would just walk out of the flames unsinged, and he’d also dodge any bullet. Plus, none of those arguments are a defense for why you let yourself get hit by my attack, nor are they excuses for the way you just humiliated me in public,” Mikage said, sound effects of menace practically visible in the air behind her.

  “Wait, Mikage! There’s just one thing I want to get straight first.”

  “…What is it?” she asked, pausing in her approach when she saw how serious her brother looked.

  “Are you saying…you’ve never been with a man?”

  “…”

  “Not even a kiss?”

  “…”

  ““…””

  Mikage said nothing. Mairu and Kururi also awaited the answer with bated breath.

  But what emerged from Mikage’s mouth was not related to the question.

  “Die.”

  “You’d tell your own brother to d— Whoa!”

  Eijirou parried the fist that came rushing for his Adam’s apple, but that was only the first of a series of blows to his vital points from every limb Mikage had.

  “Hey, whoa, geez—dang, is there no end to this combo? Come on, wow, what was that? Was that new?! Does it have a name like ‘Something or Other Dance’ or ‘Flowing Purgatory’ or something! Yow! Yow! Yow!”

  Mikage executed a combination of attacks that never stopped, and Eijirou accurately parried them all as he jabbed at her. Mairu and Kururi watched this choreographed sibling argument, entranced, until they remembered their own brother was here.

  Except that when they looked around, he wasn’t anymore. There were only casual observers, taking in the spectacle from a safe distance.

  Along Kawagoe Highway, Shinra’s apartment,

  “…And that’s what Izaya’s sisters are like. I bet even he thinks they’re more than he can handle.”

  “I’ve never heard of twins who were so…fictional…,” Celty typed, hardly able to believe the stories Shinra was telling her.

  “I think it was about the time we were at Raijin High that Kururi and Mairu became the way they are now. They were still early in elementary school at that point.”

  “Oh.”

  “I bet even Izaya understands that his sisters are the way they are partially due to his influence,” Shinra said, reminiscing. Celty was sitting with her legs folded next to his head, affording him a glimpse of knees and th
ighs. Her shadow-made riding suit was 100 percent flush to her skin, making her silhouette very accurate to the flesh. The sight was making Shinra fidgety.

  “What do you suppose Izaya said to his twin sisters when they were just about to start grade school? He said, ‘You’re identical in every way. Is there even a point to living the exact same life?’ And he did it in a way that five-year-old girls would understand.”

  “Sounds like he got himself up to some shenanigans that any set of twins in the nation would strangle him for…”

  “Actually, I don’t think he bore them any malice as twins. He probably just wanted to see them look depressed or start fighting or something. Not to hurt them but just because he wanted to see it.”

  “I know you think that’s vouching for him, but it only makes him sound worse…,” said Celty’s message, typed from the PDA and traveling through the home network to the screen of the laptop that Shinra could see from his bed. This made the conversation smoother, as she didn’t have to show him her PDA each time.

  “But where Izaya went wrong is that he didn’t realize the girls were more abnormal than he thought.”

  “Abnormal?”

  “They split up their personal features by rolling dice, hoping to be a combination of only good things. They believed that people help fill in each other’s flaws. The impressive thing is that they’ve been trying it for a decade now.”

  “It’s kind of…touching? Should I be saying that?” Celty wondered, crossing her arms.

  Shinra stared at the ceiling for a while, then conjectured, “Maybe…they were hoping Izaya would like them, at the beginning.”

  “What?”

  “Sometimes the only thing worse than anger from a family member is disappointment. My dad often said that the disappointment he sensed from me and my mom was really hard, every time he experienced it.”

  Celty thought of Shinra’s father—a freakish man who wore a white gas mask everywhere—and typed gingerly, “Well…he certainly does a lot to make himself a disappointment.”

  “When you’ve got young girls who are looking up to their much older brother, and he asks them, ‘What’s the point of being a twin?’ you can bet they’re going to do whatever they can to win his favor.”

  “So you’re saying they tried to become complete human beings to make their brother happy?” Celty guessed.

  Shinra nodded as best as he could from a prone position, then winced. “It feels like they mixed up the means and the end at some point. They’re so obsessed with being the perfect person that they’ve already drifted away from Izaya. As proof of that, now they’re fawning over Yuuhei Hanejima, the perfect superhuman. Honestly, it’s a waste for them to be stuck in the palm of Izaya’s hand anyway.”

  “Well, I don’t know much about those twins, but if you say so, then I’m sure it’s true. Then again, I don’t know who is suited to dancing on Izaya’s palm.”

  “Are you sure? Couldn’t that be what we’ve been doing all along?”

  “If it happens, I’ll jam my scythe into the tender flesh under his fingernails,” she typed.

  “You’re quite the extremist.” Shinra laughed, but her reply caught him by surprise.

  “I’ll make sure I free you from the palm of his hand, even if I can’t join you. Don’t worry, Shinra.”

  For a moment, Shinra’s mouth hung agape as he tried to process that statement.

  Then it sank in. He mulled it over in his head, and his sense of reason crumbled.

  “Celtyyy! Please, you can’t talk about leaving me alone; it’s just too saaa-agh!”

  Shinra?!

  He bolted upright, shrieking, and Celty had to forget about her typing to hold his body still.

  “Ouch… I can’t imagine a world with you-oogh… Parting is such bitter sorrow…hrg… Despair…”

  “Just stop moving! Look, I’m sorry! I think I understand what you mean! I was just kidding! We’ll run away together! Together forever! Just stop worrying!” she typed frantically into her PDA and thrust it in Shinra’s face. Meanwhile, her shadow was busy cradling Shinra’s body firmly under the blanket.

  “I’m sorry, Celty. I’m calm now, I’m calm now…”

  The slapstick routine was heartwarming in a way, but the sound of Shinra’s agonized groans refused to leave Celty’s mind.

  “Just leave all the chores to me and focus on resting. I’ve cleared things up with the Awakusu-kai, so they’re not going to rush any of their patients to you.”

  “Don’t overwork yourself, either, Celty.”

  “I’m fine. I’m turning down any jobs that would keep me away from home for long periods.”

  Just then, Celty’s PDA buzzed with the ringtone she used for messenger jobs. It was a new line of work for her, and the clients who used it were very limited in number.

  She felt a streak of extreme foreboding. The idiom speak of the devil flashed through her mind, which seemed to suggest that Shinra’s way of thinking had infected her—and one glance at the screen showed her that the premonition was correct.

  The name Izaya Orihara was displayed there. Reluctantly, she replied to the message.

  Celty@MonHun Long Sword Main: What do you want?

  Izaya Orihara: …Are you playing a video game?

  Then Celty realized her handle name was still set up for the sake of her online game friends, and she hurriedly fixed the text string.

  Celty@: It’s not what you think. Shinra’s the crafter and gunner; I just use my sword to cut off the tails.

  Izaya Orihara: I don’t know what you’re talking about.

  Realizing how completely confused she was, she frantically sat up, took the time that a normal human being would use to breathe deeply, then corrected herself.

  Celty@Actual Work: Sorry. What do you want?

  Izaya Orihara: You seem strangely adept at changing your username. Anyway, I wanted to hire you for a job.

  Celty@Actual Work: I decline.

  Izaya Orihara: I wish you wouldn’t be so dismissive of me.

  Celty@Temporarily Closed: I don’t have time to take on your shady jobs. Sorry.

  Izaya Orihara: Well, well.

  Izaya Orihara: Too busy taking care of Shinra, perhaps?

  Celty went still.

  …How does Izaya know about Shinra’s injuries? I mean, he is an info dealer, but…did Shinra tell him himself?

  While she mulled this over, Izaya continued messaging.

  Izaya Orihara: Based on the delay in your response, I’ve got a guess as to what you’re thinking.

  Izaya Orihara: “How does he know that Shinra is hurt?”

  Celty@Temporarily Closed: What’s going on? Are you involved in this?

  Celty@Temporarily Closed: If tha

  Celty@Temporarily Closed: If that’s the case, I’ll sew your eyes and mouth shut with shadow and hand you over to Shizuo.

  Izaya Orihara: Let’s not get hasty. Type calmly, please. And by the way, it wasn’t me. Even I’m not stupid enough to attempt to maim or kill one of the few friends I have.

  Izaya Orihara: But I am an info dealer, so I do have some level of insight as to who and how you might’ve been targeted. I might be able to strike a little deal.

  Celty@Temporarily Closed: Really?

  Izaya Orihara: Of course, you’ll have to run a little job for me in return.

  Celty@Temporarily Closed: You’re going to give me information on the guy who hurt your own friend as payment for running a job for you?!

  Izaya Orihara: Well, I’m sticking my neck out doing this. I’m not running a charity.

  Izaya Orihara: So what do you say? Interested in hearing more?

  Celty@Temporarily Closed: What time and place?

  “What’s the matter, Celty?” Shinra asked, seeing her frozen in place with the PDA in hand. “It’s Izaya, isn’t it? Is he asking you to do another crazy job?”

  “Well, it is from Izaya, but it doesn’t seem to be a big deal. I’m going to step out for a bit.”
/>   “Um, Celty…?” he called out. She was getting up in a hurry. “Did Izaya say something to you?”

  “Uh, I just told you… He’s got a job for me.”

  “May I see your PDA?”

  “How do you think you’re reading this?” Celty replied, nonplussed.

  But Shinra’s expression was quite serious. “No, I want you to show me the messages you were just trading with him.”

  “You want to violate my privacy? What, do you think I’m cheating on you with Izaya?”

  “…Celty…you know I can tell when you’re lying, right?” he said simply, but there was power and a kind of sadness to his words.

  “…Well…all right.”

  Celty was perfectly capable of leaving with her secret intact, but she couldn’t just turn her back on Shinra after hearing that tone in his voice. She gave up, switched the PDA screen over to the message history, and showed it to him.

  “…Figures. I knew it was something like that.”

  “I’m sorry. I thought you’d try to stop me, so…”

  “Well, of course I would…but then you’d just say sorry and rush out the door, wouldn’t you?”

  “…I’m sorry,” she said, shriveling as she realized he could completely see through her.

  But Shinra only gazed warmly at her, a soft smile on his lips.

  “On the other hand, I’m used to getting dragged around by his wicked schemes. It’s been happening since middle school.”

  “Huh?”

  “I’d like to know the reason I was attacked, too…but I don’t want to place any burden on you. So I was going to stop you at first, but if that won’t work, then I’m going along with it.”

  Indeed, there was nothing but acceptance in his features. Slowly, he raised his bandaged body, grimacing with pain, and traced the nape of Celty’s neck.

  “Let’s show whoever broke in here what we’re made of—together. I can’t move from this spot, but I can at least use my brain.”

  “But if it really is one of Izaya’s schemes…”