CHAPTER 3 B The Challenger Raira Academy—the next day It was the second day of Raira Academy’s school year, but classes were not in session yet. This day was mainly for orientation purposes—touring the school facilities, introducing the student committees and club activities, and so on. Each class would then elect its own officers and representatives. Until a few years ago, the student committee roles were decided on the first day, but the school decided that they needed more time for explanations of the roles, so that was moved to the second day of school. Yahiro nominated himself for the library committee. No one else joined him, so he was made the representative by default. The first activity after school that day was a round of introductions, then the selection of the chair and vice chair, followed by future activities, and then the rotation of who would manage the library. By the time all these steps were done, the sun was setting. The sky was red and vivid through the windows when Yahiro returned to the classroom. There was also a familiar girl present in the corner of the room. “Did you…wait for me here?” “Well, I had nothing else to do,” admitted Himeka Tatsugami brusquely. “How was the library committee?” “Uh, I was nervous, but they all seemed nice. And the committee chairman seemed nice, too.” “Is the library committee chairman the cool-looking one with the glasses?” “Yeah, that’s right.” With those pleasantries out of the way, Himeka launched right into the topic she really wanted to discuss. “So anyway.” “What?” “Should we continue our discussion from yesterday now?” “Isn’t that why you were waiting?” asked Yahiro, with no apparent sign of irony or sarcasm. Himeka let out a little sigh. “You really are strange.” “I am? Well…I’ll be careful of that. Thanks for letting me know.” “That’s not really something you should be thanking me for…,” she murmured, not letting the confusion show on her face. But that was as far as she let that topic go. “In that case, I guess I should ask—why are you chasing after the Headless Rider?” “…Ah. Right,” Yahiro said, pausing to collect his thoughts. “I want to figure something out. If I’m a normal person…or if I’m a monster.” “Huh?” “They called me a monster back where I’m from. I didn’t have any friends in elementary school. The only people who wanted anything from me were the kind who would just walk up and start hitting me.” “…” Although she was a bit confused by this, Himeka did not interrupt, choosing to wait for Yahiro to finish his story instead. “But one day, someone came to the hot spring in the town and said to me, ‘You’re not a monster; you’re an ordinary person’… He told me that there was a world I didn’t know yet here in Ikebukuro.” “…And that’s why you moved here?” “Yeah. I wanted to see the wider world out there. I thought I was doomed to this life, but here in Tokyo, there are people far stranger than me leading ordinary lives and getting along fine…” Yahiro smiled awkwardly and admitted, “I thought, if I could see that for myself, I might be able to accept what I am in a different light. That’s why I came to Ikebukuro.” “…” Himeka had listened closely to what he said. It was a strange story, but he didn’t seem to be lying about it. Yahiro claimed that people called him a monster, but nothing about his appearance suggested such a thing. While he was a bit eccentric, he wasn’t some kind of alien freak who was clearly on a different plane of existence from the rest of humanity. He must have suffered some extreme kind of bullying. Brutal and persistent hazing, pelted with rocks, treated like a beast. Specifically, it was the scars on Yahiro’s hands that convinced her of this. There were strange marks on the backs of both his hands. They had to be from the bullying he suffered. So Himeka decided to believe his story for now. She was still skeptical about why he would be here to see Shizuo Heiwajima in particular, but for the time being, she decided that this boy was worth telling her situation. “…Okay. I understand why you want to meet the Headless Rider.” “You do? I’m glad. I didn’t think you would believe me,” Yahiro said, relieved. Himeka was quiet for a few moments, then went on, “But even then…I don’t think you should chase after the rider or worship it.” “Will you, um…tell me why? Today this time?” Yahiro asked. He didn’t want to force her to speak, but he’d told her his own secret, so it was worth a shot. Himeka said, “Well, I promised. And even if I don’t say it, the story will get out eventually, I’m sure…” She sighed in resignation and explained, “I have an older sister and a younger sister. I’m the middle child of three.” “Uh-huh.” “My older sister is a journalist for a local paper, and she’s been pursuing the Headless Rider for a big story. And my younger sister, she’s been obsessed with the Headless Rider ever since she was a little girl. She was always big on dreaming and fantasies, so I’m sure that’s why she was fond of a legend who might as well have fallen out of a comic book.” She stopped there for a while. Eventually, she seemed to reach a moment of determination, inhaled, and continued the story. “They…both went missing. On the same day.” “…” “They were both worked up that morning. They said they were going to meet the partner of the Headless Rider… My older sister was going to have an interview for her article, and my younger sister was tagging along. And then they never came back,” Himeka said, as simple as if reciting historical facts. “I think they got dragged into something. But it wasn’t just them. The police kept asking about the Headless Rider when they talked to me, so I knew something was up. When I looked into it, I found out about more.” “More…people who went missing?” “Yes. I know of at least seven. But I think there are many more.” “…” Now it was Yahiro’s turn to be silent. The bit about the older sister was news to him, but he already had a guess about the younger sister. But how to bring that up now, without possibly hurting her feelings, made it difficult for Yahiro to mention that he knew her sister’s name. But then again…if I don’t say anything, it’ll be like I’m lying to her. So he decided to go ahead and ask, “Um, is your younger sister’s name…Ai Tatsugami, perhaps?” “!” Her reaction alone, before saying a single word, told him all he needed to know. “How do you know…my sister’s name?” “Well, yesterday I met a girl in middle school…and she was talking about how a girl from her school went missing. And the girl’s name was Ai Tatsugami, so I just had a hunch…” “Oh…I see. That makes sense. If you live here, you don’t need to go looking for the Headless Rider to hear stories like that.” “Um. Yeah. I’m sorry.” Yahiro bowed. Before he could continue the conversation, someone else burst into the classroom. “Whatcha doin’ here?” It was a frivolous classmate with bright green hair. “Um…” “What do you want, Kotonami?” asked Yahiro, covering for Himeka, who didn’t seem to remember the boy’s name. “Hey, c’mon. I told you to call me Kuon, remember?” he said, bubbly on the surface. But Himeka’s eyes narrowed. She was clearly wary of him. Sensing that potential hostility, Yahiro tried to smooth things over. “Oh, he took me to a martial arts gym yesterday. That’s where I heard that story I was talking about.” Kuon latched on to that. “Oh, are you talking about what you heard from Akane? Were you curious because the girl had the same last name?” “Uh. Yeah, that.” “Wow, really? You’re just going to ask her directly to her face about that? Really?” Kuon exclaimed in disbelief. But despite the words, his tone wasn’t accusatory. If anything, he seemed to be grateful to Yahiro for doing the heavy lifting and asking the awkward questions. Yahiro didn’t want her getting any suspicions about him. He hastily explained, “Kuon was there when we were talking yesterday…and we’re supposed to be helping that girl find her friend from middle school. And since she had the same last name as you, I couldn’t help but wonder.” She fixed him with a stare, then exhaled. “I’d prefer if you didn’t get into our business…but neither that girl nor either of you have any idea what I’m going through, so I suppose it’s not fair of me to be angry at you.” “Uh…sorry about this.” “No, I’m the one who owes you an apology. Sorry for making this awkward,” she said, without changing expression. That just made Yahiro feel even more guilty. Her family members were missing; she had to be a wreck on the inside. She’d probably locked her heart shut tight, which was why there was such little natural expression in her features, he presumed. Himeka continued, “Well, I might as well explain to you, Kotonami…” “Oh, call me Kuon. And I’ll call you Himeka.” “I’m very sorry, Kotonami, but I do not want you to do that.” “Oh.” Undeterred by the interruption, Himeka returned to what she was about to say. “My older and younger sisters both got involved with the Headless Rider and vanished.” “Huh? Two sisters?!” Hmm? What was that? Yahiro wondered. Something felt strange about Kuon’s surprise, but he couldn’t tell what it was, so the thought soon slipped out of his mind. “Yes. I told Yahiro earlier, so you can have him repeat it after this.” “Hang on. You’ll call Yahiro by his first name? But you refuse to do it for me?!” “Huh? For one thing, Yahiro is easier to say than Mizuchi. Plus, I said I didn’t want you to call me by my first name…” “But in either case, you clearly don’t like me, right?” As he listened to them bicker, Yahiro realized what it was that seemed off to him a moment earlier. Oh, I get it. It’s like…the way Kuon speaks…it’s all deliberate. All of it, overall. It seemed to Yahiro that Kuon was hiding what he truly felt behind his exterior. But then he admonished himself. No, you dummy. Don’t assume that. Maybe everyone in Tokyo is like this, and you’re just not used to it yet… In fact, even within Kuon’s circle of acquaintances, almost none of them sensed a deliberate falsehood in his mannerisms. But Yahiro was not mistaken in his assumption. A small cross section of others, including the Orihara sisters and Aoba Kuronuma, were fully aware of this tendency of Kuon’s and understood just what he really was. Despite the second interjection, Himeka soldiered on with her warning for the boys. “I don’t know about this girl you met, although it’s nice that she’s worried for my sister. But you understand that the Headless Rider is dangerous now, I trust. You should stay away—for your own good.” “Yeah…I get that,” said Yahiro, his first words in quite a while, “but even then…I don’t think that girl’s going to stop searching.” “…Why do you say that?” “She said, ‘The Headless Rider’s not a bad person.’ Strangely enough…it sounded like the girl knew the rider. But whatever her story was, I didn’t want to pry.” “…” Himeka considered this new information. Her eyes traveled downward, and she reached for her bag. “I see…interesting. Well, that adds up,” she said, then turned away from the two. “Regardless of what that girl thinks, I’ve given you all the warning I can. You’re the ones who choose your actions, so I can’t be responsible for what happens next. I’m sorry.” “Um, you have no reason to apologize for that,” Yahiro said. She stopped walking and turned back. “It feels better to hear that from you, but I’ll repeat myself one last time… Don’t get involved with the Headless Rider. If you really want to fulfill your goal, you’d do better to find Shizuo Heiwajima instead.” And what she said next sent a nasty sweat trickling down Yahiro’s back. Because for the first time, her flat voice held a palpable emotion in it—thick, surging hatred. “I think…the Headless Rider is a cruel demon.” Outside Raira Academy The sun had fully set outside the school. Recruitment hours for the extracurricular clubs were over, and there were almost no students to be seen. On trudged Yahiro and Kuon, who had just traded information. “I dunno, what did you think? Himeka was crazy forceful back there, right? She’s really hot, but I doubt any guys are gonna go after her. But that makes her all the hotter, yeah? Don’t you agree?” Kuon asked. Yahiro retorted, “I’m amazed you can talk about her like that…” “Hey, that’s my secret weapon. No matter how heavy the topic is, I’m always optimistic in an aggressive way. If Himeka’s sisters turned out not to be just missing but butchered in a grisly murder scene, I’d look for the bright side. Like, hey, at least Himeka wasn’t brutally slaughtered…you know?” “That’s your secret weapon? Seems more like a massive character flaw…” Yahiro was worried that what he just said was actually tremendously cruel, but even then, he was less explicit about it than he could have been. Kuon said, “Fair enough. Oh yeah, I can’t believe you became the library committee rep.” “Huh? Why, is that bad?” “No, not at all, not at all,” Kuon reassured the panicking boy. “How did it go?” “Well, I was telling Tatsugami before you came in that all the other people seemed nice. And the chairman was really laid-back and easygoing, too.” “Right, right, the library chairman who talked about all that stuff at orientation. Cool guy with glasses. Bet he gets all the chicks.” Kuon seethed with jealousy. “Kuon, are you joining a club or committee?” “Me? Nah, not for me. I wanna work my job after school and do stuff like that.” “What job are you working?” “Kind of an odd jobs gig. It’s like making an allowance by running errands,” Kuon said lightly, though he was clearly avoiding specifics. Yahiro decided that it was a touchy subject, perhaps, so he didn’t ask a follow-up question. Instead, he had a different question. “By the way…it seemed to me like you know about this guy named, uh…Shizuo Heiwajima.” “Know about him…? There isn’t a single person who hangs out in Ikebukuro who doesn’t know about that monster.” “…” The mention of the word monster dug deep into Yahiro’s chest. But Kuon seemed oblivious to any changes in his companion’s demeanor. He chattered on, “Like I said yesterday, I’ve seen Shizuo Heiwajima throwing a vending machine…and it’s crazy. I owe this third-year Kuronuma a lot, and he always tells me I should never, ever pick a fight with him.” “…” A guy that everybody says you should never fight… I’m jealous… Yahiro had spent his whole life getting dragged into fights. While he savored a vision of a life of peace, Kuon blabbered on, oblivious. “There are very few people who can actually get that guy to calm down. Apparently, he’ll listen to his superior at work, but once he gets started in a fight, there’s no stopping him. Not unless you’re someone like Simon from the sushi place…” He paused, then patted a fist into his palm. “That’s it, sushi! Let’s go get sushi!” “What?!” Yahiro wasn’t expecting an invitation of that sort in any way, and his cheeks twitched as he recalled the state of his wallet. “S-sorry. I don’t have the cash for that…” “What are you talking about? It’s my treat! On me!” “Whaaat?!” Kuon smacked him on the back, but this did not placate him. “No, I couldn’t do that! I mean, sushi is expensive…even at the cheaper places with the conveyer belt…” Even then, at a hundred yen for a little plate, that was five hundred yen for just five plates. Yahiro’s family was rich, so that wasn’t a large amount, but it wasn’t the kind of sum you received as a gift from a classmate you met the day before. Even a favor of a hundred yen was something that Yahiro wanted to avoid if possible. But Kuon ignored his protestations and beamed. “Actually, I like the conveyer belt stuff, but let’s go get some proper sushi that gets hand delivered!” “But…but…hang on, let me stop by the bank to withdraw some money…” “No, it’s cool, it’s cool! There’s a place with a special student sale for the start of the school year! There’s a whole set, including some crab nigiri, for just three eighty per person!” “Three hundred and eighty yen?!” That was probably a small serving, like three or five pieces. If not, the low price went from being a deal to downright concerning. Nonetheless, Kuon pulled a sales flyer out of his schoolbag and flashed it in Yahiro’s face. “It’s called Russia Sushi, a place run by two Russian guys…and it’s pretty famous around here.” Apartment building near Kawagoe Highway It was not coincidence that brought Akane Awakusu to this apartment building. She had been escorted here before by the Headless Rider. And she’d also been here not long before that. She remembered clearly that it was on the Kawagoe Highway. So she used one of those websites that shows the terrain as seen from the road and combed over the sites bit by bit, until at last she found a building entrance that looked distinctly familiar. It was the day after her middle school entrance ceremony, and because the day was over just after lunch hour, Akane chose to make her way over to the apartment building where the Headless Rider lived. “Umm…Dr. Kishitani’s apartment…is…” She remembered that the name of the doctor she met at the Headless Rider’s place was Kishitani. It was a name she’d heard on several occasions from Shizuo Heiwajima, another person Akane knew. There was no doubt he was living in the apartment with the rider. Because it was an older building, there wasn’t much of a security system presence, despite being on the pricey side. Anyone could get through the building and up to the door of the apartment. She went up the stairs one floor at a time, checking every nameplate, until she finally arrived at a KISHITANI sign on the very top floor. She pressed the button, but there was no reaction. After ten seconds, she tried it again, but there was no one coming out of the apartment. Near the door was an electricity meter, and it showed no signs of life. There probably weren’t even regular appliances like a refrigerator or VCR clocks running inside. Akane decided that they were not simply out running errands or at work. There was nothing to be done here. A steady uneasiness rose in her chest as she left the building behind. Next, she made her way to the basement parking lot. There, too, she found only a number of cars belonging to residents of the building and no traces of the Headless Rider. “…” Neither was there any sign of the headless horse that once carried her here. It was as if these things were all figments of a dream. Suddenly plunged into deep, deep sadness, Akane could only walk around the parking lot in a daze. It didn’t need to be much. She just wanted something she could recognize, some bit of hope that she could still cling to. After a fair amount of time spent doing that, she heard a familiar voice. “Miss Akane, what’s the matter?” She spun around and saw a man standing there, slightly younger than her father. “Oh! Mr. Shiki…” There were two other younger men with him. Their expressions were calm and pleasant, but there was an air about them that said they were not men in an ordinary line of work. Akane knew they were from her father’s organization—in other words, a group that aligned itself with certain illegal activities. But the man named Shiki standing between them was someone she’d known since childhood, long before she was aware of what her father and grandfather did for a living. Career aside, she understood that she could trust him as a confidant of her father. “Are you here to look for the Headless Rider, too, Mr. Shiki?” she asked. He sighed. “I should have known you were doing much the same, miss.” “…” “You shouldn’t be getting involved in the matter of the Headless Rider. The courier is technically one of the people on our side of things—the people you despise so much,” he said in an attempt to get her to back off. Akane said, “But…she’s not a kidnapper.” “I don’t think she is, either. The problem is, if the Headless Rider is innocent, then it means that someone else we don’t know is going around disappearing folks in her vicinity.” “…!” “And you know what will happen if you happen to stumble across someone who means harm like that, don’t you?” Shiki said. Akane understood that his argument was correct. But although she recognized his point, that didn’t mean she was going to back down now. Shiki seemed to realize that as well, so he brought up a weapon he knew would have an effect. “Your father, Mikiya, was worried about you. He thinks you’re going to get yourself into danger.” “…I’m fine. I’m in middle school already…,” she murmured. But she couldn’t hide her guilt; her eyes strayed away. Shiki shook his head slowly. “Whether you’re in middle school, or high school, or a working adult in your twenties, danger is danger. Especially when there are kidnappers making people disappear,” he warned her. His tone was heavy but not intimidating. “Leave the meat to the butcher. This is a matter for us or the police.” After a long silence, Akane’s head drooped. “…All right. Please take care of the Headless Rider and her doctor.” “Of course we will.” “If we’re leaving the meat to the butcher, then you won’t stop me from asking around about my schoolmate at school, right? She might have only run away from home, so I want to investigate it as a runaway situation.” “Well…” Shiki looked conflicted, but Akane persisted. “I’m not going to go anywhere dangerous. And there are other older kids who are going to look with me. I should be fine in a group, right?” He gave her a long, piercing look, then shook his head in resignation. “Just make sure those other kids aren’t going anywhere dangerous, either.” “Thank you, Mr. Shiki! I’ll let you know if I learn anything!” she said, bowing her head, and turned to leave. Once she was gone, he said to one of the younger men with him, “Escort the young lady back home.” “Yes, sir.” The young man bowed and took off running after Akane. Once she was gone from the parking lot, Shiki rotated and cracked his neck, and in a voice soft enough that the other subordinate with him couldn’t hear, he muttered, “Must be the Rakuei Gym influence.” He envisioned what she’d been like in years past, and a wry grimace crossed his lips. “Back when she was abducted, she seemed childish for her age. How much things change in just a year and a half.” Russia Sushi Russia Sushi was a very unconventional sushi restaurant located in the busy area of Ikebukuro. It was off the beaten path of Sixtieth Floor Street, just near the Tokyu Hands. Because there was a bowling alley across the street, a wide clientele passed by the restaurant, from students to office workers. The exterior was meant to look like Russia. Possibly a little too much like Russia. But on the inside, there was a proper counter and compartmented group tables in their own seating alcoves, just like a more conventional sushi place. Yahiro sat at the counter, looking around the room in wonder. It was basically like any sushi place he knew, except that all the decorations were foreign in style, and the menu was packed with items that he’d never heard of before, like Borscht Roll and Kremlin Assortment. Between the sharp-eyed white man standing behind the counter and the huge black man serving customers, it truly felt like Yahiro and Kuon had been transported into a Japanese restaurant located somewhere in Russia instead. “Hey, you, celebrate shining new students with good sushi. Shining you, shining sushi—eat before it become declining sushi,” said the large man, whose name tag said SIMON. With his wordplay, Yahiro couldn’t tell if he was really good or really bad at Japanese. He set down an assortment of pieces in front of the boys. There were at least ten pieces of sushi there. It was hard to believe that all this was just three hundred and eighty yen per person. Should I eat this? What if there’s something weird in there…? Yahiro was already timid by nature. He waffled awhile before reaching out with the tips of his chopsticks. “W-well…let’s try it,” he said and lifted the sushi to his lips with hesitation. “It’s…good,” he murmured, eyes wide. “Right? There’s lots of stuff to make fun of here, but the actual taste is good.” “Yeah, it tastes great. It’s like proper sushi from a restaurant in a port town.” Simon grinned at the students and gave them a vigorous thumbs-up. “Oooh, boss, you understand good. Can’t fight on an empty stomach, ya? Win the battle and strap on helmet. Lose the battle, loosen your belt. Full tummy, full dreams. Taste your dreams with your favorite sushi, ya?” He pointed at the menu up on the wall, where it said, “Cheap prices guaranteed! Everything at market price!” Yahiro decided that maybe it would be best not to order more nigiri after that. Once he had enjoyed the entire run of sushi, he turned to Kuon again. “Oh yeah, about that Shizuo Heiwajima guy… Where do you think I can find him?” “Where…? If you hang out around here, you’re sure to see him at least once within a three-day period. It’s easy to spot him because of the blond hair and the bartender getup. More importantly, why do you want to meet him? He’s dangerous, man. If you say you’re just a tourist who wants to check out the local highlights, he’ll kill you.” “Oh…” “Well, they do say he’s chilled out a bit recently. But like two years ago, he was savage. He would pound a street punk thirty feet through the air just for giving him a dirty look, apparently.” Overhearing their conversation, the man behind the counter spoke up as he washed his knife. “You boys curious about Shizuo?” “Huh? Uh…yes, sir.” “Take my advice. If you don’t have anything specific to do with him, it’s better for both sides if you leave him be,” the man said, fixing them with a glare. Unlike Simon, the restaurant owner behind the bar spoke smooth, fluent Japanese. There was a weight behind his words that forced Yahiro and Kuon to listen with their full attention. “He’s another human being like you and me. He doesn’t like being gawked at as if he’s some kind of zoo animal. And you don’t want to get hurt for no good reason, do you?” “Well,” Yahiro started to say, but he thought better of it. Kuon looked away and shrugged. Once again, Yahiro felt negative emotions swelling within him. He’s right, of course. I don’t want to pick a fight with him…but maybe it’s true that I’ve been thinking of this Shizuo person the same way all those people thought of me when they called me a monster. Look at what I’m doing… What do I actually want to do when I find Shizuo? The restaurant owner glanced at Yahiro’s downcast face and the hands placed on the counter, then headed to his next task and continued, “From what I can see, you fellas have some troubles of your own you’re harboring…” “Huh?” “Whatever it is you do, walk on the straight path. That’s the key to living life without doing something you’ll regret later on.” “…” What had the man sensed in them? Yahiro felt like all the ugliness inside him was on display, and he was suddenly plunged into ice-cold fear. “Um…thank you, sir. We’ll be careful.” “…” The man said nothing after that but resumed cutting fish in silence. After a moment, Kuon elbowed Yahiro lightly and murmured, “There, you see? Shizuo Heiwajima’s not the kind of person you get involved with out of curiosity.” “Um, right…,” Yahiro mumbled lifelessly in response. In an attempt to lift his friend’s spirits again, Kuon switched topics. “Anyway, what’s up with Tatsugami’s little sister? Let’s think of how to search for her.” “The problem is, I don’t know where to start…” “In the past, we could have used the Dollars for this.” “Dollars?” Yahiro repeated, sipping his tea with furrowed eyebrows. He was unfamiliar with that term. “Oh, the Dollars were a street gang that were around in Ikebukuro until two years ago. Then some stuff happened, and they broke up. They weren’t really a street gang, though; it was mostly over the Internet… Anyone could join, from kids to office workers to housewives. It was like a club.” “Ohhh…” Now that Kuon mentioned it, Yahiro recalled seeing a word like that while he was searching for information about the Headless Rider. He just remembered that people were talking about the group like it was a gang with hundreds of members, and he was too frightened to look into it any further. “The thing is, the Dollars’ online community was super-useful for getting info on Ikebukuro… If you wanted to find someone missing, it would pull through in a snap.” “Wow, really…? Tokyo’s so amazing.” “It’s not so much Tokyo as it is the Dollars being a specifically weird group. Not that the people who were in it would bother going around bragging about how they used to be Dollars.” Kuon grabbed the last piece of sushi on his plate, stuffed it into his mouth, swallowed, and said mockingly, “It’s behind the times, just a relic of the past leaving behind only its name and stories. Both the Dollars and the Yellow Scarves, in fact.” The smile vanished from his face, and he added one last comment, unprompted, mostly to himself. “The Blue Squares…they’ve still got some life in them.” Tokyo—abandoned building Quite a distance away from the central parts of the metropolis, there was a particular building. It had been abandoned in the midst of construction, by the look of it. Up to the second floor, it appeared to be an ordinary structure, but the contractors had stopped while working on the floors above it, leaving the eerie silhouette of exposed beams and metal untouched among the surroundings. Inside the abandoned building, a man was speaking. “Hang on… I used to be a big shot in the Blue Squares! Do you realize that? Huh?” A man dressed like a thug with bandages over his face and arms—Horada—was taking out his anger on a bunch of kids who were far younger than he was. “I can’t believe I actually got my hopes up, hearin’ the Blue Squares were back. But it’s a bunch of small-time dopey kids and dumbasses.” Horada was sitting on a sofa someone must have dragged up onto the structure. Gathered across from him were members of the Blue Squares, the organization to which he had once belonged. In the center of them was Aoba Kuronuma, who listened to Horada speak without a word. Yoshikiri was standing nearby and sending increasingly pointed eye signals that said, Can we kill him yet? but Aoba sent him a single glare back to set him straight. Then he grinned and said, “Oh yes, it’s quite embarrassing. The older guys have all regaled me with tales of your heroism and badassery.” “Oh? Th-they did?” “About how you infiltrated the Yellow Scarves and totally ruined them from the inside or how you shot Shizuo Heiwajima. They all said the Blue Squares wouldn’t exist today without you, Mr. Horada.” “Er…yeah! Yeah, exactly. I guess you could say it was me who kept the Blue Squares afloat at the time.” Now Yoshikiri was sending a look that said, What does he mean, afloat? but Aoba ignored him again. “Yes, my brother told me all about you.” “Your brother…? Huh? You said your name was Kuronuma?” “Yes.” “Did I know a guy named Kuronuma?” Horada wondered, opening the tab on a can of beer. Aoba chuckled. “Oh, we have different last names because our parents divorced. In fact, I think you know my brother quite well.” “Oh yeah? What was his name?” “His name is Ran Izumii.” Horada immediately let out his breath in the midst of taking a sip, spraying beer. “I…Izumii…?” His face was suddenly pale, but Aoba merely smiled and pretended not to notice. “Yes. My brother is currently a member of the Awakusu-kai. But I’m sure that he’d come right over if I let him know that you’re out of jail.” “Uh-huh. Izumii, huh? Ha-ha…ha…” Horada’s attitude toward Aoba had drastically changed in the last few moments. He steadily rose from the sofa to stand. “W-well, you give my regards to Izumii. This must be difficult for a young fellow like you,” he stammered, trying but failing to conceal the fear in his voice. “Oh, yes. Libei Ying from Dragon Zombie is back, so the skirmishes never end.” Horada’s shoulders twitched. “…Uh, Ying’s back? You don’t say.” “If you’re going to back us up and be our rock, Mr. Horada, it would enable us to be bolder and really launch ourselves into this war.” “Ha…ha-ha. Shit, you know I’d love to do that. But I got stuff goin’ on, yeah? And it’s really not for the group’s benefit if the old alum is runnin’ around poppin’ his mouth off and running things, right?” he said, breaking into a cold sweat as he scampered away from them. “Good luck, y’all! I’m always in your corner—you know that! Yeah? So long!” And with that, he fled the building. One of Aoba’s companions said, “Well, you can see why the Blue Squares fell off the map for a time.” He looked back and shrugged. “I mean, that was part of the plan from the start. I think he did a pretty good job, by his standards.” “On the other hand…even a guy in prison should know about Libei Ying. So if he’s that outta the loop, he’s no better than an outsider anyway.” “That’s true. The current Blue Squares don’t need him, I think. I was hoping that maybe he’d changed himself completely while in prison, like my brother.” Aoba chuckled. He moved to sit down on the sofa where Horada had just been. “That nasty injury… That was done by Shizuo Heiwajima?” “Yeah, he was with some of his old high school guys, picking up girls. The funny thing is, of all people, it had to be Kururi he tried to hit on.” “…” Aoba suddenly fell silent, much to the mirth of his friends. “Uh-oh, Aoba looks like he wants to say this isn’t funny!” “If that guy had tried anything on her, he’d be pulverized right about now.” “And this is the guy who says she’s not his girlfriend. Such passion!” “…I’ll kill you!” Yoshikiri raged, reaching out to strangle Aoba, who stood up and easily sidestepped both him and the topic at hand. “I have to say…Shizuo Heiwajima has really calmed down. Especially if that’s all he did to the guy.” “Y-you think so…?” the others asked, skeptical. “Look, calming down doesn’t mean he can’t fight anymore. But I think that since that horrible info dealer left town, his rival and all those squabbles between different groups of punks and rebels are about ready to follow his lead and vanish,” Aoba said wisely, as though he weren’t just a teenager in high school. “Everything passes on to the next generation. We’re no exception to the rule,” he continued. A thought came to mind. He let out an exhale. “Not that Shizuo Heiwajima has anyone ready to take on his mantle.” Ikebukuro—several hours later Why did things turn out this way? Yahiro Mizuchi racked his spinning brain, trying to reflect on his past. Images of all kinds raced through his mind, bringing back physical sensations. Chilly air that stung the skin. The particular smell of hot springs. Someone holding him. Life at the inn. The first day of school. The terror of being singled out by older boys. Gushing blood, pain in his fist. Blood blood blood bloodbloodbloodbloodblood “Monster.” “Monster.” “Monster.” “Monster.” Frightened eyes “Monster.” Rejection “Monster.” Broken teeth “Monster.” By the time he’d spanned from his first memories to the most recent ones, he realized that he was experiencing the sensation of his life flashing before his eyes, and his conscious mind hastily quashed those images. No, no, no. I need to remember…what happened one minute ago. And…and what I should do now… Beads of sweat hung on his cheeks. The scenery before his eyes was easy to parse. A city intersection. A crowd of gawkers. Standing there before him was a man with distinctive blond hair, sunglasses, and a bartender’s uniform. Shizuo Heiwajima. The living urban legend was not a creature of online rumors and faked video footage. He had come to stand before Yahiro in the flesh, proving the legend was real. Fury pulsed in his temples, which was apparent even from ten feet away. The movement of his shoulders rising and falling was like that of a wild beast. His eyes were severe, fiercer than any mad dog with prey in sight. The average human being, if fixed with such a glare, would be frozen on the spot. And all the hostility of this monster, Shizuo Heiwajima, was trained upon one target and one target alone: Yahiro Mizuchi. Why…? Why is this happening? The crowd around them was split. Half of them were curious for the chance to see Shizuo Heiwajima’s power for themselves. Half of them were pitying the poor teenager who was going to die. Almost none of their eyes were full of fear at the almighty strength of Shizuo. Anyone who actually knew what he was capable of had already fled the scene to ensure they weren’t collateral victims of a maelstrom of violence. At the same time, the most petrified person present was Yahiro himself. That was only natural, of course; he was under the hostile glare of a man who could pick up and hurl a vending machine one-handed. And Yahiro was a coward by nature. He didn’t want to die. He was scared. He wanted to live. He wanted to get away from the terror. So his mind spun faster: How did it come to this? Maybe then he could find the solution, the way to put distance between himself and the terror. I was talking about this person at the sushi restaurant… Then the chef there told me not to look for him… Then we went around looking for Tatsugami’s little sister… Oh, that’s right. It was a coincidence. I got dragged into this through no fault of my own. It felt like quite a long time had passed, but it was really only a matter of seconds. Perhaps the endorphins rushing through his brain along with the memories of his life had thrown off his sense of time. But illusion or not, the span was enough for Yahiro to finally remember what happened a minute before. And then again, he understood—that the aggression directed at him was caused by his own cowardice. Yahiro steadied his gaze, it following down Shizuo Heiwajima’s side to the ground. Lying on the asphalt, faceup, was a green-haired boy. Yahiro got spooked—that was all. Spooked that the very first “friend” he’d made in his life might be lost right before his eyes. Spooked that doing nothing might mean the death of Kuon Kotonami. He just wanted to run away. A few minutes earlier Shizuo Heiwajima was in a foul mood that day. When he popped his head into the office, they were talking about an odd story. “The Headless Rider is kidnapping people.” The new employee there had no idea that Shizuo and the Headless Rider were acquaintances. He was smugly passing off info he’d read from a news site that accumulated Ikebukuro information from affiliate blogs. Because the site made its money off the ad banners around each news article, they were incentivized to put flashy, attention-grabbing titles on their articles to get people to click on them. Shizuo happened to see the title on the article that was open on the new employee’s tablet: [Urban Legend Resumes] Turns out the serial disappearances in Ikebukuro are being done by the Headless Rider! When he demanded to know, “Where can I go to find the piece of shit who wrote this article?” it scared everyone else out of the room until the company president and Tom arrived at the office. Without anyone to unleash his anger upon, Shizuo had no choice but to hold down that rage in the pit of his stomach for the rest of the day’s work. “C’mon…don’t be so prickly, man. Let’s eat some sushi and forget about our troubles.” “…Yessir.” “I’m pretty sure Russia Sushi’s running some specials in addition to their new student deal.” Shizuo had finished the day safely, despite his foul mood. He followed Tom to Russia Sushi. But the block of entertainment venues across the street from Russia Sushi, such as the bowling alley, had a number of people lingering outside. “You know what? I think it’s basically undeniable that the Headless Rider is a kidnapper,” said a green-haired boy loudly, as he bought a beverage from the line of vending machines along the wall. “What’s this all about?” Yahiro had been walking around the area, hoping to find information about their missing target. They did not get any useful information from Kuon’s circle of friends and had come back to Russia Sushi. They stopped to grab drinks from a vending machine when Kuon brought up the topic of the Headless Rider. “Well, I mean…her name was Akane, right? I know we told Akane that if there’s a misunderstanding, it’s important to clear it up…but at the end of the day, the Headless Rider’s a monster, ya know?” “Er, well…” “And you came all the way to Ikebukuro to see a monster, didn’t you?” “Well…umm…,” murmured Yahiro, unable to answer firmly. He hit the button on the machine. “And even before that, whether the rider’s human or monster, they’re clearly up to no good. There’s no surprise if that guy’s kidnapping people. I was posting about that on Twittia, and nobody even argued with me. Everyone knows it’s true, deep down. The Headless Rider’s a scumbag who would totally kidnap people.” “Twittia?” “Uh…it’s kind of like a blog. Oh yeah, and my twits got picked up in a bunch of news articles. It was pretty hilarious. Though I feel bad for that little Akane girl.” “They got put in a news article? Do you get…some kind of reward or payment for that?” Yahiro had only used the Internet for looking up info about the Headless Rider and similar topics, so he did not understand the finer workings of social networks and news aggregators. Sometimes Kuon’s Internet discussions left him behind. He crouched and grabbed the can from the bottom tray of the machine, waiting for the answer to his question. “…” “?” No answer was forthcoming. “Kuon?” Yahiro stood up and turned around, assuming his friend hadn’t heard him—and saw what had happened. A man with blond hair, temples twitching, had Kuon by the collar of his shirt and was lifting him off the ground. For an instant, Yahiro froze, not understanding what had happened. Once he realized the man was Shizuo Heiwajima, a plethora of questions exploded in his mind. Huh? Shizuo Heiwajima…? I saw him in a video. The real thing? He’s lifting Kuon with one hand… Wait, but—why? He couldn’t move from the spot. It was like a bad dream—but Kuon’s gurgling brought him back to his senses. “H-hey! What are you doing?!” he cried, trying to rush over, but a man with dreadlocks intercepted him. “Hang on. Keep your distance; you don’t want to get hurt.” “…” The man didn’t seem to be hostile. He spoke to the blond man with concern on his features. “Hey, Shizuo…” But the words didn’t reach Shizuo Heiwajima. His forehead pulsing, he grunted, “Hey…boy… Was it you? Are you the one who’s been spreading bullshit rumors…?” “Aagh…stop…help…” Kuon gasped, kicking his legs helplessly. “I didn’t say anything about you, Mr. Heiwajima! It’s true! P-please believe me!” “What…? I don’t care about me… I know I’ve earned me whatever people want to say about me after the way I’ve lived my life,” Shizuo growled, barely in control, his voice like a curse from the depths of hell. “But if you treat my friend…like some kind of kidnapper…you don’t expect me to let that pass, do you…?” “F-friend…? Then you mean…you’re really friends with the Headless Rider…?” “She ain’t the kind of person who abducts people and brings sorrow to the world… I mean, she might drive that bike without lights on…so I guess you could knock her for that, but…” He was clearly doing his best to keep himself from punching Kuon, despite his fury. “And on top of that, you’re sayin’ you lied to Akane…? Well, that just ain’t right now, is it…? Huh…?” At this point, Yahiro understood Shizuo Heiwajima’s rage. It was quite simple. His friend was being treated like a kidnapper, and it made sense that he was angry about someone spreading that rumor to the public at large. And from his own words, it seemed that Shizuo Heiwajima knew Akane Awakusu as well. A number of different factors were intertwined in this situation, so it was no surprise that Shizuo Heiwajima was furious. This timing couldn’t be worse…! And Kuon just had to do what was guaranteed to set him off… …? Something else shivered through his chest. Something that was not fear of Shizuo. It was the strange, hinky feeling he’d felt about Kuon earlier, but Yahiro was not in any state to explore that now. As for Kuon, he was jabbering away, pleading his case. “N-no, wait, please, sir… I wasn’t the one who came up with this idea that the Headless Rider is kidnapping people… Koff…” “Hey, kid. I know it’s not fair, but take my advice and apologize to him. Okay?” said the other man to the boy in Shizuo’s grip. But Kuon was too panicked to hear him or understand. In fact, he promptly made the situation markedly worse. “Let’s just chill out, okay? Okay?! P-plus, you know that if something happens to me, it’ll be bad for your brother, right?” “…” “I know about you. Your brother’s a superstar, right? If I tell people about this online, they’ll totally flame his blog and everything! You want that?” he said, a threat as much as it was a plea. The man in the dreads suddenly went pale. He’d already seen what happened earlier to a guy drowning in debt who tried the same threats. “No, you idiot! Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” “Huh…?” Kuon gaped. “Wha…?” Then he realized that his body was suddenly free-floating in air. “Huh… Wha…? Whoaaaa?!” And as he fell, Shizuo’s fist thrust upward toward him. There was a krak, more of a bursting noise than a thudding impact. People turned around in reaction and saw a green-haired boy fly through the air. Kuon hurtled several yards, then rolled and tumbled on the asphalt. “Aaah! K-Kuon! Wha…?!” Yahiro tried to rush toward his friend but stumbled along the way. That was when he realized that his legs were quaking. Wh-what…? What’s going on…? I’ve never felt like this before. Ever since childhood, Yahiro had lived in fear of many things. But the “fear” he felt toward Shizuo Heiwajima in this moment was unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It was a new sensation to him. “Well, great… Ya did it now.” Tom grimaced, shaking his head. He should probably call for an ambulance. For now, he was going to check on the boy to see if he was all right, but then he noticed something. “…Shizuo?” Shizuo was quickly striding toward the fallen youth. Tom figured he felt bad that he’d gone overboard and was about to help him up. However, that optimistic thought left Tom’s mind as soon as it entered. Rage clearly painted Shizuo’s face as he walked past. Wait, are you kidding? If you hit him while he’s down, the kid really is gonna die! “Hey! Wait, Shizuo!” Tom’s usual course of action was to stand back and wait for the storm to pass when Shizuo flew into one of his rages, but this time he had to intercede. Shizuo did not stop, however. He didn’t seem to hear a word. The man in the bartender uniform reached the green-haired boy on the ground and lifted back one of his legs. What?! Is he gonna kick him?! “Shizuo!” Tom rushed forward to protect the boy. And something passed by the side of Tom’s head with tremendous force. “?!” Stunned by the whipcrack of air being split by his ear, Tom saw the object slam into the back of Shizuo’s head. It all happened so fast. There was a hard, heavy smack, and a second later, the object fell to the ground. The projectile was an aluminum drink can, rattling heavily over the asphalt. It had flown past at blinding speed, struck the back of Shizuo’s head, then fallen to the ground from the effect of gravity. That was a simple enough action to describe, but everyone who witnessed it held their breath, anticipating the eruption that was about to unfold. The can was full of liquid and hurled with the force of a baseball. That made it a dangerous weapon and possibly even fatal if it struck someone’s head the wrong way. Shizuo stopped before he kicked Kuon and slowly turned around, creaking like a spring-wound toy. When he finished, he was looking at a boy. Like the green-haired one at his feet, this boy was wearing a Raira Academy uniform. His shoulders were heaving up and down, and a cold sweat was running down his face. He was frozen in the position of someone having thrown an object, which made it very clear that he was the one who had hurled the unopened can at Shizuo. Even still, Shizuo glanced at the can at his feet, opened his mouth, and—to confirm—asked, “Was it you…who just threw that…at me…?” His voice came from the very bowels of hell. Beads of sweat hung on the boy’s forehead. His breathing was heavy. To all eyes, he seemed about ready to pass out in sheer fright. But the boy swallowed hard and, in a trembling voice, said, “Y-you’re…going too far.” Then he straightened up and delivered an ultimatum to the monster standing just a few yards away. “If you want a fight…I’ll give you one.” And that was what led to this moment. Oh, right. Yahiro vividly recalled the reason he was in this situation now, soaking in absolute fury and ill will. I picked a fight. …Wait, I did? Are you kidding? He was always the one who was getting forced into fights. He was always the one terrified of it happening. What was he doing? The presence of this question made Yahiro fear himself. He was being crushed, clamped between the fear of the deadly man before him and the distrust of his own decision-making. His classmate Kuon had been attacked by Shizuo Heiwajima, the monster. And in witnessing that, Yahiro’s greatest fear was losing someone forever—a person who would actually laugh and be friends with a guy like him. He would have probably done the same thing if it were Himeka on the ground at Shizuo’s feet. Although it was unlikely to ever happen, Yahiro might have picked the same fight even if it were Akane Awakusu, Mairu Orihara, or the library committee chairman he’d just met earlier today. He understood this action endangered his life. But the fear even outweighed that. The fear that, despite the life he’d led to this point, he would turn and flee to save his own skin, abandoning the first people to ever treat him like a fellow human being. In other words, he wasn’t summoning his courage or unleashing a noble act of sacrifice. It wasn’t reason. It was instinct. His instinct to run from fear had chosen his action for him. It had chosen the madness of stopping Shizuo Heiwajima. “…I’ll ask one more question,” said Shizuo, slowly inclining his body toward Yahiro. “Do you also think Ce…er…the Headless Rider is a kidnapper?” “…” His answer would determine his fate—that was clear to Yahiro. He chose honestly. “…I don’t know. I’ve never met the Headless Rider.” “Earlier you were saying something about coming to ‘see a monster’… Is that what you think of the Headless Rider…? Huh?” If he were crafty enough to simply lie about this, he would have been able to avoid his fears in other ways. He would not have been called a monster. Here, Yahiro’s sense of reason kicked in. Kuon was still lying on the ground at Shizuo’s feet. That meant all Shizuo Heiwajima’s hostility must be pointed at him now. That was the decision of Yahiro’s reason. His instinct had chosen to pick a fight with another person for the first time in his life—and his reason led him to issue a challenge for the first time in his life. Remember, remember. Out of all the books and TV shows he’d absorbed in his life, he tried to recall the right line of dialogue to say in this situation and use it. “Yeah, that’s right,” Yahiro said, clenching his fists and glaring at Shizuo as hard as he could. “I came here to Ikebukuro…to check out monsters like you and the Headless Rider.” Despite marshaling the full memory banks of his past, the best Yahiro could do was repeat the information back at Shizuo. But it was enough to bring the full, undivided focus of Shizuo Heiwajima to bear on himself. “I see… Well, that settles that, then…” Shizuo began to walk toward him, and once he was standing before Yahiro, he clenched his fist. “If you’re checkin’ monsters out when they’re not in cages…then you can’t complain if the monster…beats you to deaaaaaaath!” he roared, a wild beast echoing between the parallel buildings of Ikebukuro. Wreathed in the air pressure of a ballistic missile, Shizuo’s fist rocketed toward Yahiro’s face—and the boy from Akita experienced the greatest fear he’d ever felt in his life. Tokyo—Yahiro’s apartment building “Whoa, what happened to your face?” asked Saburo, the younger brother of the building landlord, when Yahiro returned home. Saburo was not like Jirou at all. He was more of a free spirit, whose life mostly consisted of a singer named Ruri Hijiribe and his van. He spotted Yahiro while he was waxing the van in the yard of his home next to the apartment building. “Uh…I fell down the stairs.” “Oh, come on—try something a little more convincing,” Saburo said, eyeing the numerous bruises and scrapes on Yahiro’s face, some of which were swelling. His clothes were fairly ragged, too. Clearly, he had not suffered this kind of damage from an ill-fated encounter with some stairs. “What happened? Hey, is someone messing with you? I’m not gonna step in and get involved in any old argument between kids, but if they’re ganging up on you, that’s another story. I can’t just stand back and watch as a relative gets beaten bloody.”
Chapter 12
48 min read