All the while unaware that a dark shadow was encroaching upon them.
✦ ✦ ✦
The rooftop of a mixed-use building
✦ ✦ ✦
“Mikado…”
Masaomi writhed on the ground in pain. He looked up at Mikado, who smiled down at him and said, “It’s all right, Masaomi. If you tie it off and call an ambulance, I think you’ll pull through.”
Then, while still staring directly at his friend, he began his monologue.
“…Ah yes. I shot him.”
“…?”
“I did it. I was able to shoot…Kida…”
“Mikado…?”
Masaomi kept his eye on Mikado as he fought pain all over his body—and he noticed that his friend seemed to be trembling.
“I wondered how far I would go in embracing the extraordinary. Even I didn’t know what the answer would be. How far would I go, what would I have to do, to make myself stop?”
Mikado walked slowly over to the corner of the rooftop, where he picked up his first gun.
“But…even after you hit me, I didn’t stop. In fact…I went ahead and shot you.”
The faint smile he often wore was gone now, replaced only by deep sadness.
“If I can shoot you, then I’m sure I could shoot my mom and dad.”
“Uh…Mikado?” Masaomi gasped, crawling along the floor, though it wasn’t clear whether Mikado was even hearing the words.
He stared off into nothingness and continued, “I’m sure I could shoot Kadota and Yumasaki and Karisawa, too. And Kishitani, and Izaya, and Shizuo, and Harima, and Yagiri, and Aoba, and Takiguchi, and Miyoshi, and…!”
As he went down the list of close, familiar names, Mikado’s voice grew more and more strained. It sounded as though he was blaming himself. But then it abruptly softened.
“Oh yeah. It’s true, Masaomi… I’m certain that in the quest for my own selfish wants…”
He paused for a moment before continuing even slower and more deliberately.
“…I would even shoot Sonohara.”
Through what faint light there was on the rooftop, Masaomi saw that Mikado was crying.
Then Mikado raised the original gun, the full-sized pistol, to his own temple.
“W-wait, Mikado! What are you doing?!” Masaomi cried with alarm, forgetting even his own pain. “You gotta be kidding! This is the least funny joke you’ve told all day!” he screamed.
But Mikado only said, “I think…I shouldn’t be around anymore. I’m only going to attempt worse things…and make life worse for more people.”
Tears dripped from his eyes as he put on his old smile. “So I think that I should vanish along with the Dollars.”
The sight of him smiling and crying made Masaomi furious. “Don’t you dare think about dying to get out of this! Look, if you die, that’s not your own free will! You’re being manipulated! By that asshole Izaya! I’m gonna get revenge on him! I’ll kill him, even if it takes all my life!”
“…”
“So…so stop this, Mikado… Don’t waste your life for such a horrible reason…,” Masaomi pleaded, tearing his lungs out, slamming his bandaged hand against the ground. The agony was horrible, but he never took his eyes off Mikado.
“…”
“…”
Silence surrounded the two for a moment.
Mikado briefly closed his eyes, then said sadly, his face joyful, “Thank you, Masaomi… I’m sorry.”
“Mika…do…?”
“Even at a time like this, I have to admit…I’m feeling a bit excited by it all… Wondering what will happen when I’m dead. Maybe I’ll get to visit a world I’ve never seen before.”
He kept the gun pressed against the side of his head, smiling to put Masaomi at ease.
“Celty exists, the Headless Rider…so maybe there is a world after death. In fact…maybe I’ll end up being like the Headless Rider after this,” he muttered to himself before looking at Masaomi again. “And the fact that I’m thinking about this stuff…makes me crazy.”
“No…stop! Don’t say that! You’re normal! What’s crazy is how we all did this to you!” Masaomi argued desperately, summoning all the strength he could in an attempt to stop Mikado.
He felt as if he might be able to get to his feet—but Mikado sensed it, too, and so he said, “Masaomi…I’m sorry.”
✦ ✦ ✦
He placed his finger on the trigger and pulled it without hesitation.
The third gunshot of the night went off.
✦ ✦ ✦
Mikado Ryuugamine’s world was enveloped in total shadow.
✦ ✦ ✦
Intersection near Tokyu Hands
✦ ✦ ✦
It was a battle to the death that defied the imagination.
Shizuo Heiwajima and Izaya Orihara.
There was an overwhelming imbalance between their respective physical capabilities. Izaya had been treated as an equal combatant up to this point largely because he focused on escape and evasion and attacked Shizuo in the resulting openings.
Sometimes he got Shizuo hit by a truck; sometimes he dropped him into a hole; sometimes he lured him into the midst of an Awakusu-kai battle. When Izaya used his knife to attack directly, it was usually as a preemptive measure, a kind of how-do-you-do to get Shizuo into a furious mood.
That was the only thing it would be good for, because the best he could do was get the blade about a third of an inch under his skin. Then again, a normal human being would never even bother to fight Shizuo, much less try to stab him with a knife.
At this time, Izaya had given up on his usual style of fighting.
He had chosen to use his knife as a serious weapon against this monstrous dinosaur of a man.
✦ ✦ ✦
When the first vending machine blow came down, Izaya leaped not backward or sideways but forward. That actually put him inside, closer than the machine’s attack range. But it meant that he was now close enough for Shizuo’s arms to reach him, and a single misstep could easily get his neck broken.
Sure enough, when he passed inside of the vending machine’s trajectory, Shizuo’s other hand reached for him. Izaya dodged it by a hair and swung consecutive knife attacks.
With each piercing of Shizuo’s body, Izaya felt the physical sensation of trying to stab the tires of some ultra-heavy-duty construction vehicle. He could puncture the outermost, weakest layer of skin, but no matter how much force he used, there was nothing getting past the layer of muscle. In fact, if he stabbed too deep, he might not be able to pull the blade back out.
Fly like a butterfly; sting like a bee.
It was a nice sentiment to emulate, but in reality, he was neither butterfly nor bee—more like a gnat trying to challenge a human being. A single good blow would easily destroy him, but Izaya still fought and fought.
Every single attack Shizuo made was deadly. But Izaya evaded them all by the skin of his teeth and countered with little nicks and cuts on Shizuo’s body several times for each punch.
It seemed as though his plan was that even if he got Shizuo to shed only a single drop of blood each time, Izaya would eventually drain him dry.
✦ ✦ ✦
Without planning on it, Chikage found himself in the position of observer of this duel. Upon witnessing Izaya’s reckless-in-the-extreme combat style, he muttered, “Is he…trying to get killed?”
“If he wins, great. If he loses and dies, he probably also considers that a victory,” Aoba said.
Chikage looked over his shoulder at the boy, frowning. “What? What do you mean, dying is winning?”
“Why don’t you beat a man to death in the midst of an enormous crowd? You’ll get arrested for murder. That’s how Shizuo Heiwajima gets recognized by the world at large as a true monster. He’s not a violent hero with an abnormal amount of power. He’ll just be known as a bloodthirsty, unthinking beast,” Aoba said with a sigh. He gazed at Izaya with mockery and pity.
“Izaya Orihara… That guy in black there hates the very notion that Shizuo Heiwajima can be treated as human. That’s why he wants to trap him, to lower him to the level of a monster. So that no matter how much he might want to be human, humanity will reject him.”
“How do you know that?” asked Chikage, so enraptured by the bizarre duel that he spoke to his enemy as though having an ordinary chat. Aoba gave Izaya a spiteful look.
“Because there are parts of him that resemble me. So I have a hunch.”