Everyone in the alley spun around to see, behind the gangsters, a boy glaring at them, his shoulders heaving.
“Wait…Ryuugamine?”
Rio recognized him as her classmate. Not a close one, but a male student who occupied the same distance from her as Anri did.
He responded by summoning all his courage to yell, “Wh-what are you doing to them?!”
The gangsters glanced at one another, brows furrowed, then made shooing gestures at him. One of them growled, “This ain’t got nothin’ to do with you, kid.”
“Y-yes, it does.”
“Huh?”
“I—I’m one of the Dollars, too. I saw the message…and rushed right here!”
That was a statement that cost Mikado considerable courage.
But either because he was still in a confused state or because he was afraid of having any of the Dollars arrested, he had not reported anything about the incident to the police.
He was there solely as a Dollar.
“B-but…you shouldn’t…be taking girls…,” he stammered. One of the gangsters laughed and approached.
“Yeah, yeah, shut up, kid,” he said and kicked at Mikado’s solar plexus.
It wasn’t an impressive kick, just a lazy, amateurish swipe.
Shizuo Heiwajima would have failed to notice it, then seen the footprint on his stomach and furiously punched his foe up to a second-story height.
Izaya Orihara would already have his knife pointed at the sole of the man’s shoe.
Masaomi Kida would simply dodge it and counterattack.
Celty would already have him wrapped up immobile in her shadow.
But in physical terms, Mikado was just your average—below average, actually—teenage student.
In these circumstances, he was tragically “just a boy.”
“Ugh…”
Mikado fell to the ground, groaning. It felt like there was a large ball of heavy lead in the pit of his stomach.
Before the pain arrived, bitterness flooded into his brain, screaming orders not to move to the rest of his body, but all his nerves were unable to stand the agony and screeched, Roll around! in their tiny, needling voices.
“Ah…gakh…”
“If you’re Dollars, then you should know there’s no rule that says the Dollars can’t take girls hostage,” the man spat. They were older men looking down on a boy, informing him of how the Dollars worked from a superior position.
Naturally, they had no idea that Mikado was really the founder of those very Dollars. But if they heard that and actually believed it, would their attitude really change?
Mikado tried to consider the possibility, but even through the blinding pain he understood that the answer was no.
Even if he had said that exact same thing as the founder of the Dollars, they would not react any differently. That was how the Dollars worked.
“In fact, there are no rules governing us at all. Specially not anything that says we have to listen to a little kid like you,” the man said, putting his foot on the kneeling boy’s shoulder.
As he crumpled to the asphalt, Mikado thought, Yes, of course. He’s absolutely right.
There were no rules.
No one could order another member to do anything against his will.
I built it to be that way.
Mikado gritted his teeth at the irony of it. Meanwhile, the gangsters talked among themselves.
“Man, there really are all kinds in the Dollars. If there are kids like this, maybe someone else saw the message, pussied out, and reported us already?”
“Let’s get back to Raira Field Two already. I don’t wanna get caught here, so let’s just kick Toramaru’s asses, bring the chicks into someone’s house, and call it a day.”
Mikado’s teeth grinding intensified.
No.
This is…wrong.
They’re all…wrong.
This…
This isn’t the Dollars I wanted to make.
He wanted to disavow every last bit of the reality unfolding here.
Mikado got to his feet, desperately stifling his urge to vomit, and yelled at the men ignoring him and heading to their van.
“Stop it…!”
“…What?”
The man who appeared to be the central figure of the thugs—the Dollars—on the scene raised an eyebrow and sneered, “What? I didn’t hear that.”
It was a taunt, but one with pressure behind it.
Mikado didn’t back down. He summoned the voice from deep in his gut.
“The Dollars don’t do…cheap, cowardly crap…like taking girls hostage!”
“…Shuddup!”
The gangster punched Mikado in the face. He wasn’t going to think over the implication of a boy he saw as inferior calling him a cheap coward.
“We don’t wanna get reported on, so three of you stay behind and pound this kid to sand.”
“Hey, wait, we wanna have fun with the girls.”
“You’ll get your chance! Come on, how long will it take you to pulverize one stupid kid?!”
Mikado tasted iron inside his mouth as he lay on the ground. He’d probably cut the inside of his mouth somewhere. Maybe even broken a tooth.
But none of that mattered to him at this moment.
The man who just hit him wasn’t paying any attention to him at all.
That was more humiliating and agonizing than the pain.
Perhaps even more so than the fact that he failed to save the girls…
By the time he recovered from the pain, the van was long gone, with only three of the men remaining behind.
“Hey, get up, kid.”
“Urgh…”
Mikado wanted to at least land one punch back, but he’d never thrown one in his life. It was all he could do to move the joints past his shoulder.
His attempt, which was possibly weaker than that of an experienced grade-schooler, feebly hit air. Mikado tumbled off his feet amid mocking laughter. He didn’t even know how he’d wound up on the ground again.
A merciless kick hit him in the side while he lay facedown. They stomped on his arms and legs, and while he didn’t suffer any broken bones, he could feel the sensation of muscle fiber and sinew fraying.
“Aah…aaaaaah!” he screamed.
One of his torturers laughed and said, “Hey, kid. You remember me?”
“…Hrg…uh…wha—?”
Through vision blurred with pain, Mikado tried to focus on the man overhead, but his skull was pressed down by a thick-soled shoe.
“It was over a year ago… You were with that guy who busted my ex’s cell phone, right? I remember you, because I never saw a kid in high school with such a baby…face!” he finished, putting his weight forward to press Mikado’s face against the asphalt. Mikado’s nose twisted, and blood began rushing out of his nostrils.
“That Black Rider came along and interrupted what was going on… Are you lil’ buddy pals with the Black Rider, too? Yeah, right.”
Wait, is he…?
He didn’t recognize the man, but his mind was working hard through the throbbing pain. But what the man said next brought it back. It was such a minor thing, he could have completely forgotten all about it.
“I only found this out recently once I joined the Dollars. It’s Izaya Orihara, right? The guy who busted my phone. I guess he’s famous?”
Ah.
It was just after Mikado first came to Ikebukuro—when he saw Anri being bullied and saved her. Izaya came along and stomped on one of the bullies’ phones.
A few days later, a guy claiming to be that girl’s boyfriend was waiting outside the school gate—and Celty knocked him out in one blow.
Something krickked inside of Mikado.
It wasn’t because he was kicked. But somehow, his ears picked up the sound of his own backbone creaking.
“Let me guess: Did you think because you knew someone famous, that made you a good fighter? Or did you think that being Dollars with us made you our equals? Huh?”
The man stomped on Mikado’s back, but he couldn’t even feel the pain anymore.
Something was surpassing all that pain, some kind of emotion he’d never even felt before.
He remembered.
Mikado completely remembered the man before his eyes.
“Little chumps like you being in the Dollars is nothing but a pain in the…ass!”
The man kicked Mikado’s head—right as he muttered something in his mind.
A statement that Mikado would never ordinarily make.
Oh, no kidding…
He’s…
He’s…that worthless idiot.
That was the first clear change to come to the boy named Mikado Ryuugamine.
But as it happened entirely in his head, no one noticed the change.
He didn’t get any further than that thought. The blow to the head knocked him completely unconscious.
Somewhere in Ikebukuro
“Got the girl! Now we just beat down Toramaru’s boss, and the Dollars will rule Ikebukuro!”
The man fumed with pent-up fury as he read the flippant e-mail.
He reached out to a nearby street sign and clenched it, his arm rippling under the bartender shirt.
“…Son of a bitch.”
After a silence of just a few seconds, he began to walk.
His steps were slow and deliberate, and he left a handprint dent in the pole of the sign behind him.
Shizuo Heiwajima was heading for a very specific destination, smoldering with rage.
Near Kawagoe Highway, apartment building
“Mikiya will be arriving soon downstairs. Let’s go,” Shiki urged Akane, as Celty watched.
Three of his men were alert on standby, circling Akane close enough to keep her safe and far enough away to keep her from panicking.
“…Do I…have to go back home…?”
“Miss…”
“I mean, I’ll say sorry to Dad and Mom. I’ll apologize…but…”
“Miss Akane, I understand that you don’t think highly of our work. But the first thing you should do is have a proper talk with your parents. They don’t want to involve you in our world under any circumstances. Please believe that.”
Celty watched Shiki in wonder as he talked to the girl.
Hmm. He’s like a different person altogether. The way he speaks and the tone of voice is the same, but somehow his attitude is different. If only he could be that gentle and mild all the time.
But in truth, Celty was more delighted that the girl was safe after all.
I’m glad we’ll be able to send her back to her parents before the day is over, she thought, remembering the mystery attacker who went after her and Anri the previous day. Based on the timing, I can’t imagine that they have nothing to do with the request to protect Akane. But at least at the Awakusu-kai stronghold, those weirdos will think twice about attacking, assuming they were a threat to the girl.
If it were night already, they might use that powerful gun to blow up the vehicle in transit, but that would be a major stretch in the daylight. It’d be one thing if it was a full-blown war between yakuza syndicates, but the goal of the enemy had to be taking Akane Awakusu hostage. Drawing attention and getting the police involved would only make that harder.
But we can’t rest easy. We still don’t know why Anri was attacked… I suppose I should follow behind the car in secret once it leaves.
As Celty was silently swearing to continue overseeing Akane’s safety, the girl in question was still in conversation with Shiki.
“At any rate, stay at home for a while, miss.”
“…Did something happen?” she asked politely, but Shiki hesitated to answer.
Good grief, she really is sharp for her age.
“Even if something did, it’s our job to ensure that it doesn’t affect you. Please don’t worry.”
“…Are Dad and Grandpa okay?”
“?”
“Did Big Brother Shizuo do anything to them?”
Time in the room stopped flowing.
Shinra had told them it was Shizuo Heiwajima who brought the girl here. But as for what happened before then—the details of how she came across Shizuo in the first place—all Shinra said was, “I only heard sickbed rambling, so you may have better luck asking Akane yourself once things calm down.” That had been Shiki’s plan, until this moment.
How? She couldn’t possibly know about this struggle between Shizuo and the Awakusu-kai. Unless he was feeding her nonsense when they were together?
Shiki’s face had gone into a hard scowl for just a few seconds, and Akane didn’t miss it. She asked tremulously, “D-did…did he really do something to them?!”
“No, they’re fine. There’s nothing for you to worry about,” Shiki reassured her with a smile, but Akane wasn’t listening. She started trembling and mumbling to herself.
“I knew it…I should have killed him when I had the chance…”
…?
What…did she just say?
It was mumbled and hard to hear, but he could have sworn she just said something about “killing when she had the chance.”
Shiki instantly felt an odd, nagging feeling.
Something had changed in Akane since she ran away from home.
Yes, she had always been a bit precocious for her age. He understood that she had learned about the family business before and been stunned by the truth.
But the way she was acting now was strange.
Shiki considered this change, trying to recall others who had exhibited similar behaviors.
Like those women on the run from loan sharks, at the end of their rope and about to fall apart…
He abruptly stopped that train of thought. He wanted to tell himself this wasn’t true, but he couldn’t afford to be totally optimistic.
“Miss, what did you just…?” he started to ask, deciding that ascertaining the truth was vital now—but just then, with the worst possible timing, one of his men approached.
“The director’s car is here.”
“Got it. We’ll go down in a second,” Shiki commanded. He stashed his doubts away for the moment and started to escort Akane down to the street.
“Thank you for your help. I’ll get in contact very soon about what comes next. We’d still like to hear a detailed account of what happened last night, Celty,” Shiki said, bowing deeply. Akane smiled and waved at Shinra.
After the two left, Celty sat down on the sofa.
“What in the world is going on? What’s this about Shizuo?”
“Hmm? Is something the matter?” asked Shinra, coming forward with coffee in hand. He glanced at Celty’s PDA.
“Akane said something about Shizuo, and then Shiki went stock-still,” she wrote, hoping to get some minimum of information before she left to follow the car.
Shinra spread his hands to indicate that he was at a loss. “Oh…I wish I knew the answer to that, too. Seems like the Awakusu are after him,” he said with a wry smile.
But Celty, who had known him for years, recognized that it was a flat smile that did not reach his eyes. That was enough to tell her the situation was tense.
“Seems like this is spinning into something much bigger.”
Celty hadn’t envisioned it growing to envelop Anri and Mikado and realized that she regretted getting involved with this job. But now that she had met Akane, she couldn’t very well just abandon the helpless girl.
Plus, the fact that Akane was here, even if just for the night…might be enough for those mystery people to set their sights on us here.
The odds were low, but without knowing the identity of her assailants, she couldn’t afford to relax.
Celty proceeded around the apartment, checking on the status of their defense measures. Meanwhile, Shinra wondered aloud lazily, “Anyway, I think the Awakusu-kai are chasing him around over a mistake… The question is why Izaya would cause them to make that mistake…”
“What? Izaya’s involved with this?�
��
“So I understand, if Akane is to be believed…and as long as someone else isn’t assuming Izaya’s identity.”
This time he smiled properly. Celty smiled back with her shoulders and typed out, “I don’t think anyone could fake being Izaya other than him.”
“Good point.” Shinra chuckled.
Okay, time to go.
Celty got up, sensing that the car would be leaving right about then.
An enormous sound outside the building froze her in the act of standing up.
—?!
What? What?!
She looked around Shinra on instinct, thinking it must be a gas explosion.
Instantly, he was holding her, enveloping her body.
Wh-what are you doing, Shinra?!
“Watch out, Celty! Get down! It’s a terrorist attack! I saw something flash down below through the window!”
“Calm down! I’m fine—you get under the table!”
Was getting under the table the right emergency response after an explosion? She wasn’t sure, but there was no time to think it over. And yet, Celty found herself thinking about something even less necessary at that moment.
Shinra…
Were you trying to protect me?
She felt her chest growing hot, despite the lack of any blood flowing through it, and headed to check out what happened outside, when…
Through the window, Celty’s odd sense of “sight” noticed the members of the Awakusu-kai, hunched over on the street covering their eyes and ears, and a motorcycle racing away from the scene.
And under the arm of the rider atop the large bike, the little body of Akane.
Celty leaped through the open window frame and down onto the veranda.
A few minutes earlier, near Kawagoe Highway
“Hey, Aoba, how long we gonna keep walking?”
“Yeah, we don’t wanna get surrounded here again.”
Aoba headed down a narrow alley, following the black thread, while the few other boys behind him complained. They clearly had no interest in this strange thread extending from the bike in the abandoned factory.
Aoba grinned and replied, “C’mon, stop worrying. Just think about it. It’s already crazy that this thread is running all across town, right? And no matter what we tried, we can’t cut it. I thought it was stretching out like rubber, but no matter how far it stretches, it never gets thinner. It feels weird, like you’re stretching and contracting smoke.”
Durarara!!, Vol. 6 Page 14
