Chapter 16

CHAPTER 4 B The Returnee An excerpt from Shinichi Tsukumoya’s closed blog Hi, it’s been a while since my last update. My friend the info dealer has vanished from the city, and I haven’t had much to do lately. The Dollars are gone, too; plus, the Headless Rider hasn’t been seen in half a year. If you’re still coming to this page, it’s probably because you want to know about the string of disappearances lately. Before I talk about that, I should say something about the protagonist of this case. Yes, the protagonist. If you were to describe a life as a story, in most cases, you would pin the label of protagonist on the person whose story is being told. However, in circumstances where the ties that bind people are complex and intertwined—such as an incident like this—viewing the situation in an objective manner will sometimes require making a protagonist out of several people. The case of the serial disappearances in Ikebukuro is no exception to this. The protagonist role shifts depending on the direction of your objectivity—the side committing the incident or the side pursuing the truth. The observer’s personal interests will also have a large effect on the narrative lens. In my personal lens, the Headless Rider is the protagonist. Yes, despite having vanished half a year ago, the rider is the protagonist of the story about the past month’s disappearances. You might find that strange…and yet, despite her absence from Ikebukuro, she is treated as a central figure in the incident, isn’t she? We also have that cliché…that the hero shows up at the last minute. But if you view this incident with the Headless Rider as the protagonist—well, what a foolish and unimpressive protagonist she makes. After all, she has no idea of the disaster befalling her. She won’t know until the event grows so large that it is nearly out of anyone’s control. Kawagoe Highway—outside a convenience store late at night It was after two in the morning. A man exited the convenience store and found a shadow blocking his path. A literal shadow. The figure was covered in an all-black riding suit, like a black outfit with no logos or patterns. It was as if it had been dipped in the blackest ink imaginable, so black that it seemed to absorb all the light coming from the store. It was darker than the night around it. However, the shadow was also wearing a flashy Hawaiian shirt and a lei of flowers on top of the suit. The especially strange part about this shadow was above the neck. The figure was wearing a helmet with an odd design on it. While the neck and everything below it might have been completely black, the helmet and its design were an artistic contrast. The face cover on the helmet was as black as the tinted glass on a luxury automobile. It reflected only the neon light of the convenience store and did not offer any glimpse into what was behind it. In total contrast, the helmet was also decorated with stickers of various cute and minimalistic mascot characters from different regions of the country. “…” The shadow exuded nothing but silence. It did not even seem to be alive. When the man that exited the convenience store caught sight of the shadow, his face crinkled with joy and besotted affection. “Hey! Celty! Were you waiting long?” “What do you mean? That wasn’t even three minutes. Anyway, did they have eggs and milk?” “They did! I got a four-pack of eggs for now.” The man chuckled, holding up a plastic bag. He had called the strange woman in the black riding suit and Hawaiian shirt Celty, but when she replied, she did not speak out loud. She communicated by typing her message into her smartphone. “I made sure to clean out the refrigerator before we left. Will that be enough?” “I don’t think we’ll have a problem for now, since I can eat all the souvenir foods we picked up. But if you want to whip up some homemade crab omelet, I’d be happy to let those souvenirs rot!” “That would be a waste. Apologize to the people who made them.” “Fine! Then I’ll eat them after they’ve gone bad!” the man said, his eyes sparkling. Celty’s shoulders heaved. “Then what would be the point?” It was a gesture meant to evoke a heavy sigh, except that she was not actually breathing. “So, uh, should I put the milk and eggs in the sidecar?” “No, it’s already stuffed. I don’t want the eggs to fall over and break,” she said and opened the face cover on her helmet—revealing an empty space inside. She stuffed the convenience store bag into the extra room there. “There, that should work,” she typed, once the cover was back in place. The man, Shinra Kishitani, gave her a warm smile. “Perfect. Celty, you’ve completely moved past caring that you don’t have a head anymore.” Celty Sturluson was not human. She was a type of fairy commonly known as a dullahan, found from Scotland to Ireland—a being that visits the homes of those close to death to inform them of their impending mortality. The dullahan carried its own severed head under its arm, rode on a two-wheeled carriage called a Cóiste Bodhar pulled by a headless horse, and approached the homes of the soon to die. Anyone foolish enough to open the door was drenched with a basin full of blood. Thus, the dullahan, like the banshee, made its name as a herald of ill fortune throughout European folklore. But that was all in the past. For now, she led a simple life as an urban legend—and as a woman in love with a man named Shinra Kishitani. That was the Headless Rider of Ikebukuro, Celty Sturluson, in a nutshell. Kawagoe Highway A strange motorcycle rode the night streets. It slid along the ground without any engine noise whatsoever, pitch-black, with no headlights and no license plate. Celty’s trusty steed, the headless horse Shooter, took the form of a two-wheeled motorcycle to fit into modern society. There was a large sidecar attached to it, stuffed with folk art, local specialties, and even items like pennants and wooden swords. With her ability to freely control the shadow that had a mass of its own, forming a pitch-black sidecar to attach to her horse was no trouble at all. But without the space to hold another person anymore, she and her passenger had to ride down the highway in the classic two-seater fashion. If I turned him into a carriage, this would probably be easier…but I don’t want to do that. If I draw too much attention, that monster will come after me again, she thought ironically. She was recalling the face of a fearsome traffic cop who rode a white police motorcycle. I have to say, though… The pulse of Shinra against her back as he clung to her made the headless woman smile inside her heart. Riding two at a time isn’t so bad. Celty and Shinra made a living in Ikebukuro as a courier and a black market doctor. Until half a year ago when they apologized to their clients and went on a long, long vacation for some traveling. It was a meandering journey all over Japan that took them six months. Once a year had passed since the conclusion of her long, long quest to track down her head, Celty decided that if she was going to live in this country in perpetuity, she might as well learn more about it. So the pair went traveling. Today was the day they finally returned to Ikebukuro. That was such an enjoyable trip. Maybe it’s because I was with Shinra. Or would it have been more relaxing if I was traveling alone? Either way is fine, I guess, she thought, reflecting on the memories. The snow festival in Hokkaido was great, and the Kerama Islands in Okinawa were beautiful. Shimane Prefecture was wonderful in October. The Izumo-taisha shrine was packed. Oh, and touring the different hot springs in Tohoku was amazing. If she weren’t completely headless, she would have a vacant, daydreaming smile on her face right now. Celty drove down Kawagoe Highway, savoring the mixture of sadness that their journey was over and relief that she was among familiar scenery once again. Traveling down a number of back alleys to remain out of sight, she brought them to the rear entrance of their apartment building along the highway. They had returned to their soul nest, the place Celty and Shinra called home, for the first time in half a year. Shinra’s apartment building—basement parking garage Celty stopped the motorcycle in the parking garage, and she and Shinra slowly hopped off. “Ahhh, we’re finally back. It’s fun being on the trip, but it’s actually relaxing when you’re back home,” she said, rubbing Shooter’s back, now that he had returned to horse form. Shinra, however, was giddy enough to belie the rigors of their long trip. “As long as I’m with you, everywhere is fun and relaxing! Er, sorry, I guess it’s not relaxing. After all, I’ve never, ever been relaxed in your lovely presegg-egg-egg-egg!” “Don’t try to use this opportunity to cop a feel.” The conversation was very much in character for this pair—but then a third voice entered the scene. “Ahem…I hate to interrupt your flirting.” Shinra and Celty flinched and turned in the direction of the voice. Hiding among the darkness of the garage was a person they both knew well. “Mr. Shiki?! What are you doing here?” It was a lieutenant of the Awakusu-kai who made use of both their services. “Well…I got word from one of the young fellas that the Headless Rider was seen at a convenience store. Just thought I would drop by to say hello.” “Oh, I see. Thank you for visiting!” Celty typed into her smartphone, politely confused. “Hmm, I thought you used a PDA for typing…” “Yes, but I bought this to try it out, and it’s quite easy to use. I learned how to charge static electricity in my shadow and use it to tap the touch screen.” “…Seems very clever, if you ask me,” said Shiki. He gave Celty a piercing look. “You, on the other hand…” Celty was wearing an Aloha shirt and a flower lei over her riding suit, as though she’d just come back from Hawaii. In the sidecar, which had separated itself from the headless horse, an assortment of goodies and souvenirs from all over the country was packed into every inch of space. It was the luggage of the most naive rube of a tourist. “…You don’t seem like you’re aware.” “?” “Aware of what?” asked Shinra. The couple was confused. Shiki exhaled. “Were you online at all on your vacation?” “No? It was a vacation with just me and Celty, so we put the worries of the world behind us and shared each other’s company.” “At most, we searched for local information at places we went sightseeing.” At that, Shiki understood their cluelessness. “Well, it’d probably be easier for you to check it out for yourselves rather than have me explain it to you.” “?” “Go back to your place, eat something, unpack, and relax, and then do an online search for ‘Headless Rider.’ Narrow the results down to recent hits,” Shiki suggested and turned his back on the pair. “We won’t have time for a proper chat tonight, so I’ll return tomorrow. I’ll give you a call first. Don’t pretend you’re not home, Dr. Kishitani.” Apparently, Shinra had been refusing to answer any calls from business clients. With that warning in place, Shiki left the garage. As he went, Celty and Shinra could only tilt their heads and shoulders with curiosity. And thirty minutes later, when they were back in their penthouse apartment, Celty had looked herself up on the Internet, and her scream raged across the screen of her smartphone. “Aaaaaah! I’m done for! It’s all over!” She typed the message repeatedly, incessantly, rolling around on the floor and throwing her limbs about with abandon. “Calm down, Celty! It’s fine, you’re fine, you can still make it!” “Make it where?!” “I would go anywhere with you, Celty! Into the flames, under the water, into a black hole!” “I don’t want to go there!” she snapped. All the while, she had her hands clutched to her helmet, rolling back and forth. The facts she found online were shocking. There was a string of disappearances happening in Ikebukuro, and a rumor that the Headless Rider was responsible had spread so widely that people treated it as gospel truth. On an Ikebukuro-centric news site, there were a number of articles breathlessly asking, “Is the Headless Rider our serial kidnapper?!” It was even getting picked up by some national news websites. “Blame the awful Headless Rider” “The Headless Rider is child-kidnapping scum” “Imagine not having a head in today’s economy lmao” These thread titles and comments appeared on message boards and social media networks, whether posted anonymously or not. On the most famous site for questions and answers, the queries were pouring in: “My daughter is interested in the Headless Rider. Should I kill her before she goes and gets herself kidnapped?” “Aaaaah! It’s all over. I don’t care about myself. But if any of this comes back on you for living with me, Shinra, then aaaaahhh!” “I don’t know… The haters on the Internet don’t even have our address, so I wouldn’t be as worried about them. I’d be more worried about people we’ve worked with in the past, like the Awakusu-kai and such, right?” “No, it’s not going to stop at this! They’re going to find my background and pin down my identity, then call the school and get me expelled, and the cops will come and demand reparations, and aaaaah!” “But, Celty, you don’t even go to school! I’ve never seen you so out of sorts before!” Shinra lamented, but he couldn’t keep a smirk from appearing. “You really are a resident of the online world.” “It’s not funny! I’m innocent! I’m innocent!” “Hmm. This Ikebukuro forum post about criticizing the Headless Rider’s traffic infractions has got you nailed pretty bad, though. There’s no arguing against that.” “Awww… B-but Shooter’s not a motorcycle. He’s a horse…,” she typed, refusing to meet Shinra’s eye. “Th-the point is, I haven’t kidnapped anyone! It’s true; you gotta believe me!” “You’re fine, Celty! Believe me!” “Shinra…” “You could be a kidnapper—hell, you could be a serial killer, and I would still love you just the same!” he insisted forcefully. Celty grabbed his collar with a tendril of shadow and dragged him along the ground, shaking him. “If I did any of that, don’t love me—stop me! I mean, I didn’t! I haven’t done anything like that! Believe me, Shinra!” “Uh, Celty, I don’t have to believe you. I was with you at every moment for the last six months,” he said calmly, despite the constant shaking. Celty came to her senses. “Oh! Right! I was with you, Shinra! I have an alibi! In fact, we could get statements from the people at the inns and stuff…” “Well…even if we could establish your alibi, where would we publicize it? That’s the problem.” “Oh.” “And if we argued our case online, it would just turn into a mob against us, I bet. The Headless Rider posting on the Internet? Is it a sock puppet? An attempt at gaining publicity? Even if they believe you’re you, they’d say, ‘Why would I believe the story of someone who regularly breaks traffic laws?’” Shinra pointed out calmly and rationally. “B-but why are they acting like I’m just guilty, right from the start…? Do the people running these sites have a personal grudge against me?” “Listen, Celty. These tabloid sites that dig up and spread rumors make their money from advertisements, so they want as many views as possible. In that sense, they don’t care if their information is true or false. So it doesn’t matter how unreliable their info is; they’ll puff it up into the most sensational headline possible in order to drum up views.” “Ugh… S-so if they find out it’s fake, will the articles get deleted?”