Durarara!!, Vol. 4 (novel) (25 page)

A few minutes later

The bikers, fleeing with their tails between their legs, sneakily made their way through the neighborhood to avoid the motorcycle cops. From what they heard over their walkie-talkies, many of their friends had already been hauled in.

“Shit…now we can’t even go back home… The chief’ll kill us.”

One of the men in a striped gang uniform, apparently the leader of the expedition, called out to the fifteen or so members still remaining. The police would spot them in minutes if they moved as a full group, but they didn’t have enough power left to implement a better plan.

“We at least gotta show off our power to a local gang to regain some face…”

They forgot about their own damage and headed off through the town, driven by their twisted desire to express themselves through violence. And when they got to a street close to the Sunshine building, they found what looked like local thugs and stopped their bikes on a side road to play tough.

“Hey, you. Got a question for ya. What’s the name of the team that reps this area?”

One of the local toughs thought it over and gave them an answer.

“There’s a bunch around here… For the more organized types, you want the Jan-Jaka-Jan who work for the Awakusu-kai. For the street racers, I guess it’d be the Dragon Zombies? But ever since that crazy motor cop showed up, they’re all keeping it on the DL.”

“Awright. You tell me where to go to find ’em, then.”

“You going to fight ’em?”

“Fuck’s it to ya?!” the leader in ritual garb demanded. The local thug shook his head.

“You guys are in Toramaru from Saitama, right? C’mon, you know your boss doesn’t like this kinda stuff, right? The guy might be a womanizer, but I’ve heard he’s at least got some honor.”

“Shuddup! Chief’s got nothin’ to do with this!”

“We were supposed to catch that Black Rider and get the money, then pass it up the chain so we could go independent!”

“Come on… You’re gonna get ten million yen for nothing, then give it to the yakuza? Seriously? If I got my hands on that kind of cash, I’d use it for myself. You wouldn’t need to be a biker at all with that kind of money. You want to ride, just get your own tuned-up wheels,” the dreadlocked thug advised, whether he was saying it out of sarcasm or honest helpfulness.

“What…? You dissin’ us like we’re a buncha
penkoro
?! Huh?!”

As outsiders to the city, there was very little concern about fights with the locals following them back home. So without that threat in the back of their minds, frustration had no brakes to keep it from spilling into anger and violence.

“What’s a
penkoro
?”

“Tom, forget about them and let’s go. I’m getting hungry.”

“Yeah, good point. I just wish the boss would buy us dinner once in a while…”

The local toughs’ utter indifference to them pushed the bikers over the edge.

“You bitches… Don’t ignore us!”

One of them pulled off a metal pipe that was affixed to his bike and swung it with all his might.

“Whoa, watch out!” said the dreadlocked man, cleanly dodging the blow.

But just as a metal pipe had ripped through Celty’s cargo bag earlier in the day—it ripped through the other thug’s
bartender-style sleeve
.

“Ah!”

“My clothes…,” the man said quietly.

The one with dreads was already sprinting away, signing the cross as he prayed for the bikers.

The next instant:
zwip
.

If there were visible sound effects in real life, that’s what would appear over the scene:
zwip
.

That was how easily the man picked up the motorcycle, rider and all, with one hand.

And like tossing a baseball, threw it into the other bikers.

You see, the outsiders did not realize.

That in Ikebukuro, there are people
one must never pick a fight with
.

People that no one should ever, ever, ever challenge to a fight, no matter if they were a hit man, or a serial killer, or a president, or an alien, or a vampire, or a headless monster.

Then came the sound of thunder.

“You ripped the clothes…I got from Kasukaaaa!”

The man in the bartender getup pulled out a nearby streetlamp and swung it at the bikers like a baseball bat.

There was the sound of thunder, and both motorcycles and men flew through the air.

With that customary sight, Ikebukuro’s holiday came to an end.

Whether the city enjoyed its holiday or not is not for us to know.

But at the very least…

The neighborhood of Ikebukuro was at peace again today.

Chat room

Jack-o’-Lantern Japan Talent Agency Office, Higashi-Nakano

Ultimately, Ikebukuro was full of people searching for the Black Rider for several days after that, not just the first chaotic twenty-four hours. On top of that, the appearance of a look-alike “headless knight” only added to the confusion.

The hassle was worth more than the increased shopping and tourism the event brought with it, so the police eventually succeeded in getting the bounty withdrawn.

The publicity costs for all the billboards announcing the nullification
of the bounty and the subsequent apologies to the public were staggering, but the president of Jack-o’-Lantern Japan was all smiles.

“Fantastic… Hey! Let’s hear some applause! I am damn fantastic right now, folks! Applause! I can’t hear you! More applause with the cheers and the clapping! It’s a celebration! I am celebrating you right now! To hell with the scandals and whatnot—I celebrate you two!”

Several days after the incident, amid a barrage of thirty firecrackers courtesy of the agency president, stood an expressionless male star and a gloomy but beautiful female star.

They had no way of knowing how, but Ruri Hijiribe’s agency president, Yodogiri, had vanished under mysterious circumstances. The agency went into panic mode, and Ruri Hijiribe was the first asset to change hands—to Jack-o’-Lantern Japan.

There were a number of initial theories about the disappearance, one of which even posited that he was so shocked by the scandal with Yuuhei Hanejima that he wandered into the woods and vanished.

But because he was not a man with a good reputation to begin with, society quickly accepted the change and began to celebrate Ruri Hijiribe’s new start.

After President Max Sandshelt happily, liberally complimented himself and his company, he said something about “leaving the rest up to the young lovers” and took the managers away for a meeting.

Kanemoto, the temporary manager, ended up taking off work from the physical stress of Yuuhei’s scandal coming out on his watch—but that’s a story for another time.

The two actors were left alone.

It was silent between them. Their so-called romance had been a sham meant to help them get through a perilous situation. Ruri eventually broke the silence, grinning faintly as she turned to the typically expressionless Yuuhei.

“Um…there are things…I haven’t told you, aren’t there…?”

“Like what?”

“…Like how I discovered my Hollywood power…and why I became a killer…and what…Yodogiri and them…did to me.”

She was smiling, but her voice quavered faintly. No matter what the blood within her said, she was clearly reliving the memories that drove her peaceful life to one of murder.

Without moving a muscle in his face, Yuuhei said, “If you don’t want to talk about it, you shouldn’t force yourself.”

“I want you…to hear it.”

“I refuse,” he said conclusively, a rare thing for him. The serial killer woman flinched. To her surprise, he was as flat and straightforward as ever as he said, “Once you tell me your story, you’re going to kill yourself, aren’t you?”

“…”

Her silence was all the confirmation he needed.

“Listen, Ruri. I’m not the tree that you tell the secret of the king’s ears to.” As usual, it was impossible to tell if he was angrily chiding her or not. “I’m just a human, as you can see… I thought, if I can’t understand others, I should at least make the effort to try…and I’ve been watching ever since.”

“…”

“So I’m pretty sure I know what you’re thinking. As usual, I don’t know what you’re feeling, but I understand your thoughts. I don’t want you to die, Ruri. So don’t tell me anything.”

“…Maybe you really are a monster,” she said out of admiration, not disgust. “When I was a girl…I wanted to destroy absolutely everything. But…more than that, I was just afraid of losing what was around me. I wasn’t able to be a monster…not to the extent of completely ruining myself. I think that, ultimately, I was most afraid of losing myself.”

“Losing is scary. I suppose you could say that’s a form of love.”

If he’d said it with a grin, it would have come across as cocky and cool, but the flat monotone of Yuuhei’s voice actually gave the words a strange impact.

When silence crept between them again, it was Yuuhei who broke it this time.

“…There’s one thing I didn’t say.”

“What is it?”

“Back in my room, when you knocked me over and sat on top—I’m pretty sure I was panicking.”

“…Huh?”

If she had swung her arm down on him, he would have died without making a sound—of that, Ruri was certain. This was a baffling thing to admit. She looked closer.

Yuuhei stared back into her eyes, and for just an instant, he looked troubled.

“My pulse got faster, and my chest felt hot.”

“…”

“…”

“Are you…trying to hit on me?”

“I’m only speaking the truth,” the perfect man said, perplexed.

Ruri laughed. “You’re just like a child, Yuuhei.”

And she smiled, not with the shadowy wan smile of earlier, but an innocent, childish grin of her own. The girl who had been a serial killer mumbled, “But…I don’t really mind that.”