Durarara!!, Vol. 7

by Ryohgo Narita

  The area happened to be empty at the moment, but a resident might pass by at any time. In order to minimize the risk of being witnessed, the men were going to have to be rough, if necessary. All they had to do was pull off this job, and then they could use or destroy the weapon that was Shizuo Heiwajima in any way they desired.

  However, they certainly didn’t imagine that the women who were with Shizuo also happened to be deadly weapons, when handled improperly.

  The white woman looked like the biggest and strongest of the group.

  The man who attempted to throw his sack over her head was the first to taste the weapon’s bite.

  “…You seek to target me?”

  Vorona let out a short breath, leaped off the ground—and aimed her right foot squarely at the jaw of the man, with all the torque of a chameleon’s tongue flicking out. Her steel-plated boot passed right through his upheld arms, the high kick smooth and flowing.

  Her toe connected with his chin with pinpoint accuracy. The man’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he passed out, unaware of what had actually happened to him.

  “…Huh?”

  The men who witnessed this action experienced a temporary mental fog, a void of experience. It was not fear at Vorona’s strength—it was simple lack of understanding of what they’d just seen.

  But when the mind stops, the body often does not.

  The men raced toward their targets, temporarily careless and preoccupied, only to receive a very painful counterattack—not just from Vorona, but all the girls.

  “Goddammit, stop stru…gah!”

  Mairu jabbed her fingers in the eyes of the man trying to hold her down. She didn’t crush the eyeballs, but it was enough to make him leap backward. She then used those extended fingers to grab his ski mask so that he yanked his head free as he pulled away. With his face exposed, she swung her hands forward to slap him right on the ears—the kind of dangerous, precise strike meant to rupture the eardrums.

  One of the other men automatically looked over when he heard the sound of his companion screaming and rolling on the ground. That was enough time for Kururi to pull a spray can out of her pocket and deploy it.

  It was a small can, like a purse-sized perfume bottle. It contained a self-defense substance of her own design, based on store-bought mace.

  The reason it was only based on the common market product was so that it could be several times more powerful.

  “Wha…wha…?!”

  The largest of the attackers, seeing that his buddies were going down left and right, finally noticed that something was wrong.

  “Dammit, screw this crap!” he ranted, grabbing the nearest girl, the slow-looking one with the spray can, so that he could subdue her through brute force. But because he was so tall, he failed to notice the youngest girl approaching his feet.

  “…What?”

  There was a brief crackle, and he looked down to see—

  “Y-yah!”

  Akane Awakusu hit him right on the leg with her stun gun.

  She’d gotten the gun from Nakura the other day as a means to kill Shizuo. Fortunately for the man—and Akane—Shinra had modified the device while Akane was sleeping to ensure it wouldn’t be fatal.

  Of course, nonfatal is not the same thing as nondebilitating.

  Froth bubbled out the man’s mouth and nose before he could even scream. Akane switched the stun gun off immediately and hid behind Mairu.

  Why does she have a stun gun? Vorona wondered. Well…after what just happened to her, I suppose she was given one for protection. But she seems very adept with it…

  Vorona pondered this question as she knocked out the men one after the other. At first, she assumed that this was a hit squad sent by someone seeking revenge against her or perhaps some new group of kidnappers to abduct Akane Awakusu after she had failed.

  “Sh-shit! What’s up with these bitches?!” the men wailed in panic.

  “Who said kidnapping them would work against Shizuo? Whose bright idea was this?!”

  At this, Vorona suddenly understood.

  Aha… We’re supposed to be hostages against Shizuo… They wanted to take down Shizuo Heiwajima.

  She suddenly realized she was smiling. Don’t make me laugh.

  A man lunged for her from the side, and she stomped her heel hard onto the top of his foot. When he grunted and lurched forward, she spun and slammed her knee into the bridge of his nose.

  You think you…are capable of toppling him?

  Recall.

  Recall.

  Those who you destroyed in the past.

  These men here are nothing but soft putty, a far cry from even those old victims.

  But as she knocked them out left and right with her bare hands, Vorona began to recall other things.

  Her own nature, forgotten after consecutive defeats.

  Her pathological urges that she could not control.

  It’s not enough. These men are not enough. Humanity is…not this frail. Shizuo Heiwajima…is not this frail!

  The urge to destroy, which had given her so much pleasure, came to her under the guise of finding out if humanity really was a frail thing. But that urge, which meant nothing more to her than an excuse to kill for pleasure, was now changing in subtle ways.

  Strong… I want to be strong.

  Strong like that man, harder than diamond and vaster than the tundra forests! If I can destroy Shizuo Heiwajima, then perhaps…I can gain fulfillment I shall never find elsewhere.

  These thoughts roared through her mind as she kicked, struck, toppled, and overwhelmed the men—a forced smile plastered across her face.

  She told herself that it would only be a true smile when she defeated Shizuo.

  “Uh, cr-crap! Let’s pull back!”

  The men fled in panic, totally unprepared for the resistance they received. They raced for their vans, but one of them was already pulling away.

  “H-hey, you idiot! Wait, don’t lea…”

  But once they got to the street, they realized why the car took off. From the other end of the street, two men with distinctive appearances were approaching—one in a bartender outfit, the other with dreads.

  “I-it’s…Shizuo!”

  “Quick, get in!”

  They piled into the remaining car as if they were fleeing from some horrifying dinosaur, some of them even hanging off the door handles as it pulled away.

  Tom watched in confusion as the cars full of screaming men departed. “What the hell was that all about? Did they have a fight?”

  Shizuo glanced toward the temple, saw that Akane and the other women were all standing around normally, then shook his head and remarked, “Fighting right in front of the goddess Kishimojin. Have they no shame?”

  As a matter of fact, the men had been attempting something far worse than a simple fight; fortunately, their plot ended in spectacular failure.

  The men raced off out of sight, too terrified to consider their good fortune that they were not spotted in the act by Shizuo.

  “…There was a mistake in my answer to your prior question,” Vorona murmured as the man in the bartender getup approached. She was back to her usual stony expression, and her voice was so quiet that only Akane heard her.

  “Huh…?” the girl said, confused.

  Vorona didn’t bother to stay quiet. She came right out and said, “Shizuo Heiwajima. He is my prey. Eventually, I will destroy him. That is truth.”

  “…! N-no! You can’t!” Akane pleaded. She tugged on Vorona’s trousers. “I’m going to beat Big Brother Shizuo!”

  Young as she was, even Akane couldn’t have described exactly what emotion it was that had just risen within her heart. She simply heard Vorona say that she would destroy Shizuo, and that complex interplay of emotions delivered a single answer to her.

  I need to kill Big Brother Shizuo. But I don’t want to… Umm, umm…

  She wasn’t able to find a way to rephrase her words, so all she could come up with was a vague
follow-up.

  “I have to do something about Big Brother Shizuo!”

  “…Answer is unclear. Please provide reason that you hold ownership of my prey.”

  “I…I don’t know all that complicated stuff!” Akane argued back. Meanwhile, Mairu and Kururi simply watched the argument, wide-eyed. It was just then that Tom showed up.

  “Huh? Where’s Shizuo?” Mairu asked.

  Tom gestured over his shoulder with his chin.

  “Just getting a can of coffee from the vending machine back there,” he said before noticing the argument going on. “Hey, what’s…?”

  “Shizuo is mine.”

  “No! You can’t touch Big Brother Shizuo!”

  “…………? …?!”

  Huh?!

  This development was so abrupt and absurd that Tom’s eyes grew to the size of golf balls behind his glasses.

  W-wait…what?! What’s going on here?! When did the situation turn into…this?!

  Meanwhile, Shizuo finished up his coffee and reentered the temple grounds.

  “Big Brother Shizuo!”

  “Hey. Have you been getting along with them?” he asked Akane, rubbing her head. She turned and glared daggers back at Vorona.

  Shizuo never saw the fireworks going off between them.

  “Dammit! What the hell was that? Who were those chicks?!” one of the thugs ranted back at their hideout, yanking his ski mask off.

  They were the remnants of a street gang crushed by Shizuo in the past. The few that remained back at the base rushed up to see what happened.

  “What do you mean? You guys failed?!”

  “Well, I guess I see why she’s Shizuo’s woman… Damn it all!”

  “I wouldn’t worry too much. We can wait for that kid with the stun gun to start walking alone and nab her then.”

  “Yeah, we left a few back there to keep an eye out. As long as they keep watching, the chicks’ll definitely split up, so we can get them one by one,” one of the returning men bragged. He hadn’t learned his lesson yet.

  Of course, these were guys who’d been beaten by Shizuo once and were actually going for a second attempt—learning wasn’t their strong suit.

  In this particular case, they weren’t going to get a second attempt.

  “Are these your lookouts?”

  There were some dull, heavy thuds at the entrance, where two large lumps of flesh were now placed. The men were unconscious, their faces red and swollen.

  Then the people who brought them back to that pummeled state entered the hideout.

  “What?! Who the…fu…?”

  They were very menacing figures, over ten in total. These men wore a variety of outfits—black suits, sweat suits, work clothes—but all of them contained that air of deadly seriousness that marked them as being of a professional nature.

  “Who was it you said you were going to kidnap?”

  “Er, uh…”

  “Going after Miss Akane, of all people? Did y’all want to be metal men that bad? Should we go take a trip to the smelting tank and see what happens?”

  “Eh…? Eh…?!”

  These men were all part of the Awakusu-kai.

  Some members who had been secretly keeping watch over Akane saw that she was making contact with Vorona and called for backup—then the gang attacked and was promptly beaten, only for a few of them to return to the scene as lookouts.

  The Awakusu men subdued them without drawing Akane’s attention and worked the location of the hideout out of the hapless lookouts. Naturally, the thugs had no idea who Akane was or what she represented, so this was all a terrifying mystery to them.

  “Wait…! Hang on, we don’t know… We were just… Shizuo?”

  “Save your breath. We can hear all the details back at the office. Get your story straight now while you have the chance.”

  “W-wait, no…”

  “See, if your story is bad, then the next step is coming up with your last will and testament—not that we’re actually going to pass it on.”

  The Awakusu-kai men got right to work with clinical precision. Given that they were merely taking some punks who got beat up by a group of girls back to the office, it was a very, very easy job indeed—one they conducted without mercy.

  And that was how rumor and hearsay contributed to the downfall of one particular gang.

  Ikebukuro

  Akane and the twins left, so the debt-collecting trio headed off to its next job.

  Tom kept glancing toward Shizuo as they walked, occasionally offering a cryptic comment.

  “…Well, given who your brother is, I guess you’ve got the looks…”

  “What’s up, Tom? You’ve been acting weird.”

  “Nah…it’s nothing. Ignore me.”

  “?”

  Shizuo was still curious, but he gave up asking Tom. Instead, he turned around to Vorona.

  “By the way, Vorona…”

  “What is it?”

  “Have you and I met somewhere before?”

  “…?!”

  Did he figure it out? Vorona wondered, instantly tense.

  She’d had her face covered, and the only words she’d said to him were “Motorbike is mine.”

  The bike in question had been destroyed, and there was a firefight following that, but she’d been in her riding suit and full helmet the entire time, so he hadn’t seen her face. Still, a perceptive person might have noticed.

  She decided to take great care with her answer. “It is secret. Do you mind that I wish to refuse the answer?”

  “…”

  Shizuo didn’t reply. He walked over to a nearby vending machine and bought a can of coffee. It seemed strange, since he’d just had one a moment earlier—but this one he gave to Vorona.

  “?”

  “It’s on me.”

  “…”

  “See…before now, I bounced around between a lot of jobs… It’s the first time I’ve ever had a junior coworker to mentor,” Shizuo said with a grin. “Tell you what, I’ll let go of the fine details. You seemed like you were getting along with Akane, and if Simon introduced you to us, I’m sure you’re a good person.”

  “…”

  It’s like he’s a completely different person from when he kicked that car. And I still can’t tell if he realizes who I am or not.

  “Well, here’s to a good working relationship,” Shizuo said and pressed the can of coffee against Vorona’s cheek. It squashed the flesh out of shape, but her expression was still as blank as ever.

  “…Fwank you.”

  Shizuo Heiwajima… What a strange man.

  As far as she knew, he was the toughest human alive. Yet she still knew nothing about him.

  Over time, I shall learn more and more. And once I know everything, I will destroy him. That is my reason for living, Vorona decided and drank the coffee.

  It tasted rich and dark, with just a little bit of sugar. Oddly, it seemed rather sweet to her.

  Vorona turned to Shizuo, face as impassive as ever.

  “…Thank you…sir.”

  “H-hey, did you hear?!”

  “The guys going after Shizuo got nabbed by the Awakusu-kai.”

  “For real?” “How come?!” “Guess his bird’s an Awakusu relative.”

  “What does that mean?” “Is Shizuo the Awakusu-kai heir?”

  The absurd rumors circled all over Ikebukuro, changing constantly.

  “You hear? Did you hear, man?!”

  “Shizuo’s the secret love child of the Awakusu-kai chairman?!” “Whoa, really?!”

  “Yeah, with a Russian woman!” “So that’s why Shizuo’s blond!”

  “I thought that was hair dye? “Crazy!” “Okay, don’t mess with him.”

  “I’m not scared!” “But who wants to make an enemy of the Awakusu-kai?”

  And once the rumors got truly absurd, those half-hearted ruffians immediately believed in them.

  They had no choice. They had to believe them. Many wished it to
be true with all their heart.

  I really, really don’t want to have to deal with a monster like Shizuo.

  This wasn’t the hope that they might actually beat him—it was even more powerful, something like basic animal instinct.

  So they clung to the rumors. As long as the rumors were true, they had a valid reason to fear Shizuo. Where before they could not shy away from one man and retain their pride, the presence of the Awakusu-kai backbone gave them a proper rationale for not attacking the individual in question.

  And that secret desire of theirs gave birth to more rumors.

  Several months later, a third-rate tabloid took the story seriously and wrote an article proclaiming, “Yuuhei Hanejima’s Grandfather: Yakuza Boss?!” Not only did they get into trouble with his talent agency, it also attracted the attention of the Awakusu-kai, nearly putting the publisher into bankruptcy.

  But that’s another story.

  New rumors were born every day, racing through Ikebukuro—to serve as a bridge between the ordinary and extraordinary, between people and city.

  “Hey… Did you hear?”

  Ordinary D: Lovey-Dovey Chaka-Poko

  Chaka-poko, chaka-poko.

  The carriage trundled along behind the horse.

  The silhouette suggested a relaxed, regal air as it glided through the light and shade of the trees, as elegant as a leaf drifting through the vast expanse of time.

  All except for one detail…

  The silhouette of the carriage was indeed nothing but a silhouette.

  It was black without reflection, the very absence of light. A carriage somehow expanded from a two-dimensional plane of shadow into a three-dimensional object.

  It was the kind of carriage that nobles would have traveled in not too long ago, but in this situation, it was like an illustration taken from a children’s book—a pop-up shadow-play children’s book, perhaps.

  If anything added to the strangely alien nature of the sight, it was the horse pulling it, which wore a Western-style horse helmet that, like the rest of the carriage, was pitch-black and nonreflective.