Chuo Expressway A van drove down the highway toward the Hachioji area. It did not belong to the kidnappers. This was one of the Blue Squares’ vehicles, owned by an adult member of the group. Aoba Kuronuma sat in one of the seats, rocking to the vibrations, deep in thought. I can’t believe that Horada guy learned something before I did. Was I overlooking his capability…? He’s more talented than I realized. Aoba didn’t realize that Horada had discovered the enemy’s base through sheer coincidence and momentum, and it was wreaking havoc on his mental image of the man. He normally sat in the passenger seat, but today he was in the back seat. He turned to the younger boy sitting next to him and said, “I didn’t actually think that you would come along with me, Mizuchi.” “Why not? My classmate was abducted. Of course I want to help.” “…You know, sometimes you’re really adrift from the rest of the world. Normally, you’d leave something like this up to the police,” Aoba observed. It was a reasonable notion. Yahiro considered it and answered, “I suppose that’s a good point. Why aren’t you reporting it to the police?” “We’ve all got marks on our records. We don’t need to interact with the police any more than absolutely necessary. And I doubt they’d jump into major action based on an anonymous tip.” He grimaced. In this case, he was willing to be brutally honest. “We’re not running a charity. So if we can find a weakness of this group before it becomes a criminal matter, we can have our way with them. And speaking of which, I find it incredible that you didn’t even think of the police as an option until I brought it up.” “I’ve spent so much time being a hassle for the cops, I try not to bother them at all.” “Ah, I see,” murmured Aoba. He decided to play one of his cards. “No good memories of the police back in Haburagi Village?” “…” Yahiro had no response. He turned slowly to look at Aoba. For his part, Aoba kept his eyes on the scenery outside the window. “Sorry, I’ll admit it: I looked you up. Sounds like you were quite the troublemaker back home. Some of those people still haven’t been able to leave the hospital, their legs are broken so badly.” “…” Aoba was enjoying himself now. He turned to look right at Yahiro. “So why did you come to Ikebukuro? Got tired of the people back home and came to Tokyo for tougher opponents? Like, say, Shizuo Heiwaji…” His words stopped partway. Yahiro didn’t do anything to Aoba. He just met the boy’s eyes. “…” But that was enough to stop Aoba from speaking. It felt as though the temperature in the car had dropped several degrees. Aoba felt as if bottomless darkness had suddenly appeared right before his eyes. Yahiro Mizuchi’s eyes were dark and clouded, completely unlike just moments before. Instantly, Aoba realized that he was effectively making a tightrope walk between two high-rise buildings. One step out of line and he would be plunging into an unfathomable disaster. “Kuronuma,” Yahiro said without inflection. It sounded like he could very well utter the words “please die” next and try to break Aoba’s neck. But Aoba wasn’t so weak-willed that he’d cower in fear in this situation. “What is it?” He smiled. “The guy whose arms and legs I broke…hit me with a dump truck.” “…” “He was driving it without a license. After hitting me, a bunch of them came attacking me with pickaxes… So even after everything I did to him, I got off on justified self-defense,” Yahiro said, as flat and plain as though he were reading it out of a journal. Aoba doubted that self-defense was really a valid defense in this case, but he wisely chose not to say anything. That was a distinction that did not matter in the scope of what Yahiro was talking about. “Today, they try to kill me with a dump truck. What if they drive it into my house next time? What if my family dies? I couldn’t help but be terrified.” “…And then?” “And then I thought, The answer is to make sure he can never drive a truck again,” Yahiro stated. Aoba felt a shiver tickle his spine. Not a chill of fear but more of a trickle of delight at the sheer alienness of the person he was sitting with. Uh-huh. So this is Yahiro Mizuchi. …Fascinating. “So were you assuming that I was fighting just to waste time and keep from being bored…?” the boy asked, looking conflicted. Aoba said nothing, so he went on, “I’ve never engaged in a single fight just for f…” But he didn’t complete the word fun. He’d just had a flashback to his fight with Shizuo Heiwajima and the sensation when Shizuo’s fist hurtled toward his face. It was a tremendous punch, sheer trauma incarnate. But even then, there was something different about that fight. He could say that for certain. If asked why, Yahiro would find it difficult to put the reason into words at that moment. He was rattled at the time, too, and he could sense it was an opportunity for him to finally break out of being treated like a monster and turn into something else instead. But Yahiro knew that his opportunity was shadowed by dark storm clouds. Oh…I get it. It’s going to end up in a shambles, isn’t it? In the last few days, he’d come to understand that Aoba Kuronuma was not actually the pleasant, polite person he appeared to be. But he hadn’t imagined that Aoba would look into his past and try to drag it here, into Yahiro’s life in Ikebukuro. Even here, I can’t escape it. But it was only natural that this would happen. He was able to look up the Headless Rider and Shizuo Heiwajima from home. Of course, people in Tokyo could look up his past, too. It was just evidence of the enormity of what he’d done in his hometown. Yahiro felt shame envelop him and closed his eyes. “…I’m sorry. I got a little emotional.” Then he looked away from Aoba and out the window. The orange lights over the highway illuminated the plaintive look on his face. What am I going there to do? To save Tatsugami? Do I even have the right? How does a monster like me save other people…? Thoughts and memories of the past shot through his head. So many different people and the looks in their eyes. Watching him. Always. He wanted to turn away from all of it, unable to bear their gazes. I can’t. I have to get past this, or I’ll never change. I just need a chance, the right opportunity to be different. Something that provides a path that I can take the first step down—whether forward or backward. He clenched his fists and prayed. Not to any god or devil in particular—he just prayed. And then… A shadow. A sudden and unprompted anomaly shut down Yahiro’s train of thought. …?! Despite the presence of the orange highway lights and the headlights from the cars behind it, an object of pure darkness passed right before Yahiro’s eyes—to the side of the Blue Squares’ van. “The Headless Rider…?” “Hey, Aoba! What’s going on? Did you contact the Headless Rider, too?!” yelped the driver. “No,” Aoba replied, “I was going to, once we had confirmation…but I didn’t do anything yet.” “I’ve seen that bike, leading the way in front! That’s someone from Jan-Jaka-Jan!” “Uh-huh. So has the Awakusu-kai figured something out?” Aoba muttered, with no small frustration. But then he noticed something. “Hmm…?” A number of bikers dressed in white riding suits were following Celty from a short distance behind. “Are those guys…Dragon Zombies?!” It was a very strange formation cruising down the expressway, black followed by a flock of white. Aoba realized that they, too, were part of that mysterious flow and felt glee pulling up the corners of his mouth. “This is gonna be rowdier than I imagined. “In a sense, we’re lucky we didn’t show up late to the festival.” Himeka Tatsugami didn’t think of herself as misfortunate. Neither had she ever felt that she was fortunate. So was her life one of happiness or misery? She had no answer to that. She was a strong person—not in terms of physical strength or in great intelligence. Her mental fortitude, though, had been squarely ahead of the pack all throughout her life. Even at a young age, she never cried or wailed at the haunted house attractions, and she never screamed on a roller coaster. If asked for her opinion, she would say it was “really scary,” but when it came in such a neutral tone, few people ever believed her. For as long as she could remember, she had simply accepted the reality around her on a continual basis. She accepted her father screaming at her mother, his face red and terrifying. She accepted that he punched strangers. She accepted the warmth of his palm when he rubbed her head with a smile, a completely different person. She accepted the knowledge that he was a criminal when her little sister was born. She accepted that her father ran a lending business that charged illegal interest rates. In other words, that he was a loan shark who ruined the lives of others. She accepted that when she was still in elementary school, her big sister told the police about what his company did, hoping they would arrest him. She accepted that she was hazed by her classmates because of her father’s arrest. She accepted that she brushed off all the nasty pranks and rose above them, giving her one of the strongest positions in the class. She accepted that the kids who had bullied her were now sucking up to her, trying to win her favor. She accepted that after her father was gone, her mother slowly fell apart. Despite the fear he instilled with all of his screaming, did her mother really love him? Or did she simply confuse fear-based loyalty with love? Himeka couldn’t understand it, and it was something between the two of them, not her, so she never felt the need to ask about it. In either case, to fill the sense of loss she felt, Himeka’s mother created her ideal world within her own shadow and spent her time speaking to the darkness in the wall. Within that fictional reality, her mother apparently suffered not just her father’s yelling but also his violence. Whenever she called out Himeka’s or her sisters’ names, she would mutter, “Don’t leave me here. Don’t leave me alone with him.” Why, in her imaginary world, did she imagine even worse treatment than she suffered in reality? Was that her ideal existence? Himeka didn’t understand it—but even then, she accepted her mother and cared for her the way anyone would love their mother. And by that token, though Himeka understood and identified her father as absolute scum, she loved him the way anyone would love their father, too. She hoped he would reform his ways in prison and emerge a changed man, and she wanted to do her part to support his return to society. Where Himeka miscalculated was that she failed to realize just how strong she was. Because of that, she assumed her sisters faced all these things and accepted them in the same way that she did. All until the moment she heard her older sister curse the world itself. Around the time Himeka started middle school, one of her father’s former clients stabbed her sister, who was in college. When the police questioned him, he lamented that people suspected him of leaking the information to the police, and no other loan sharks would loan him money anymore. The man was the owner of a small workshop and had run out of goodwill with the banks and turned to black market money in an emergency. But the rumors about him led to the bankruptcy of his workshop and his own ruin. In his fury, he turned to violence. Aya and the workshop owner knew each other, and it was true that she had turned over the records of his dealings to the police. Naturally, she couldn’t have known that it would lead to something like this. What Himeka didn’t know until later was that there were plenty of people who knew loan sharks charged illegal rates but made use of their services anyway. But by the same token, she did not think of loan sharks as a necessary evil. Their father pursued only his own enrichment—it was true—and that might have helped this workshop owner, but it also meant that many more people did not recover from his loan schemes and fell into ruin. Therefore, Himeka didn’t think her sister was wrong to do it, and if the workshop owner was going to blame anyone, he should blame the stingy banks or the bad economy, not Aya. So Himeka was terribly disturbed by her sister’s stabbing, but she used sheer willpower to overcome the shock and helped take care of things to support her sister. “Why did this happen to me? I did the right thing. Didn’t I, Himeka?” She did. She did the right thing, Himeka thought. So Himeka said just that. “You did the right thing, but the right thing isn’t always rewarded. Maybe that’s just how the world works. “I won’t state for certain that there are no gods or higher powers out there. Maybe they do exist, but they certainly don’t reward people immediately for doing the right thing. So stick with us, and we’ll keep going together.” That was what she said, honestly and openly, but her sister’s response was different. “…I can’t believe you can be so cruel. Do you know what Mom said when she talked to the wall like that? She said, ‘…Don’t turn your father in to the police. We’re a family.’ “Is that the right thing to her? Is it the right thing for her to say that to me? “I hate it. I can’t think the way you do. I can’t look at the world with cold, enlightened eyes like yours and just give up on everything.” Her sister’s words dug deep into Himeka’s heart. It wasn’t that those words were truthful. Himeka never thought of herself as having a cold attitude, and she specifically didn’t want to give up on everything because of all the pain she was in. So it was unbearably sad to her that her sister viewed her as the inverse of what she was. But because Himeka was sturdy by nature, she withstood that sadness. She didn’t break down and cry or rage with indignance. She just continued to help her injured sister get by. To others, however—even her own mother and sisters—that toughness just appeared freakish. She has no emotions, people often thought mistakenly. She had a mental sensitivity just as rich as anyone else’s and the full range of human emotions. When she enjoyed something, she smiled—just like anyone else. But for her, there was much more time spent withstanding sorrow and pain than feeling delight. Because of that, she was rarely moved by anything, and she could easily contain the most blistering anger and hold back tears of sadness. The lack of outward emotion was not at all a sign of flimsy humanity. Himeka Tatsugami’s problem existed before any of that. For better or worse, she was simply too strong at withstanding any kinds of emotional swings. And that strength caused an unintended drift. She fell out of touch with the sisters she cared about more than herself. Her little sister Ai, too, was not strong enough to withstand the cascading effects of such a cold reality: the troubles stemming from her father’s arrest, the unfairness of her sister’s stabbing for doing the right thing, her mother’s mental collapse. Her big sister recovered and left the hospital, but the time she spent there left her falling behind in setting up a job after school, another reminder of the cruel nature of reality. One day, she was watching TV and muttered, “Headless…Rider…” Nobody who’d lived in Ikebukuro for years would hear that name and not know what it meant. Himeka was startled the first time she saw the silent motorcycle, but her initial impression was simply that it was a strange, berserk rider on a strange, berserk motorcycle. She wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Many Ikebukuro residents thought of it as nothing special at the time. Until one day, when things changed permanently. The mysterious, unexplained Headless Rider appeared on the TV cameras. It did things that were physically impossible, fashioning a gigantic scythe of shadow from its body and racing straight up the side of a building. It seemed to be trying to impress its existence upon the rest of the world. Himeka thought it was incredible but couldn’t eliminate the possibility that it was just special effects—until the Headless Rider began to use those supernatural powers all the time, during the day, in the presence of crowds. It was as though the city itself had accepted the rider’s existence. Her older sister would have witnessed that, too. She began to study the Headless Rider with a fervor akin to ghostly possession. She would talk at length about how fantastical, how far outside the bounds of reality it was. That was when Himeka realized something: This had become something of a religious fervor to Aya. Aya believed the rider was something that could puncture a hole in the unbreakable, irrational hull of society—something even more irrational from another world entirely. Maybe it really was a ghost. Or maybe it was some kind of angel or devil. Once the truth about it was proved, the very model of the world would change. You wouldn’t know if the second hand on a clock was ticking into the future or the past. Would it be explained with science or worshipped as a holy mystery? In either case, the world would change. It would take them away from this irrational, unfair world. That was what Aya believed, whether she had any evidence for it or not. Even though, whether the Headless Rider was really something beyond the bounds of the world or not, it had not come to save anyone. For one thing, the Headless Rider had apparently been in Ikebukuro for over twenty years. If it was meant to save someone, why didn’t it save Aya when the workshop owner stabbed her? To Himeka, the Headless Rider remained nothing but a stranger with a strange power. But she wasn’t going to expend any energy arguing that point. If the Headless Rider was something that gave her sister the will to go on, then its existence alone was, in fact, serving to save her life. And she held onto those beliefs—until the Headless Rider disappeared from Ikebukuro. At first, it was just a rumor, but as the days passed without any sign of the Headless Rider, her sister became more and more desperate. Himeka even saw her muttering at the wall alone, just like their mother did so often. “The Headless Rider’s going to take us somewhere else. The Headless Rider’s going to free us from this world.” And in addition to Aya, Ai was also infected with this devotion. The two of them would even go out to wander the streets in search of the rider. The Headless Rider brought her sisters hope, then vanished without providing anything else. Himeka knew it was just an emotional response and wasn’t fair, but she was decidedly dispassionate on the topic of the rider. At times, she even entertained the thought that the Headless Rider was an actual demon, bringing people false hope in order to lure them into total despair. When she realized the kind of conclusions she was making about someone she’d never met in person, Himeka felt disgusted with herself. She was no better than the man who stabbed her sister, and perhaps even worse. Maybe she was the one who was being unfair to the rider. While she didn’t let it show on her face, that miserable feeling continued to accumulate within Himeka. But one day, her big sister’s mood was suddenly improved. And after that, her little sister started acting strangely. Around this time, her big sister often asked, “Maybe you’re right, Himeka, and there are no gods or higher powers in the world. So if there’s no god, why don’t we make one?” Himeka didn’t give her a firm answer—she didn’t know what Aya meant—but her sister continued absently, “You don’t have to try anymore, Himeka. One day, you’ll understand.” When Ikebukuro lost its famous urban legend, it was Aya who longed for the Headless Rider’s return more than anyone else. Aya vanished a month later—right alongside her younger sister, who was just as fervent about searching for the rider. Normally, you wouldn’t expect someone to be able to keep a rational mind, losing two sisters at the same time. But Himeka had the strength to recover right away, giving her the mental sharpness to come up with a hypothesis. Was my older sister really kidnapped? When she saw the unfinished memo the magazine office found left behind, Himeka felt something was off. Her sister had worshipped the Headless Rider, but this was too clipped and emotionless for her. And the information about the rider itself was noticeably less than what she talked about at home. Could it be…? She had a bad feeling. A possibility had occurred to her. But she wanted to rule it out. Regardless of the situation, she wouldn’t do something that ridiculous. Himeka loved both of her sisters. If it came to the Headless Rider versus her own family, Himeka decided she would trust her sisters. And now to the present… The reunion with her older sister was nearly the worst possible scenario. If seeing her as a dead body or maimed for life was the actual worst case, then this was the next worst thing. Here in the basement of this mansion a fair distance away from Ikebukuro, Himeka learned the awful truth: Her sister was not a victim but a perpetrator. “Hello again, Himeka. How many days has it been?” said her sister, looking down at Himeka on the floor with an empty smile on her face. Himeka just coldly stared back at her. “We were together in the van ride over here. I just couldn’t see you, because I was thrown around on the floor in the back.” “Oh, is that right? Ah…yes, perhaps,” said Himeka’s sister, Aya Tatsugami, with a gentle smile that did not break. “But regardless, I’m glad you made it here safely. Don’t worry—everyone here is very nice.” “…What are you talking about?” “The Great Celty, the Headless Rider, has returned. It’s all okay now.” “Um, Aya?” Himeka could sense something was wrong. Their conversation wasn’t adding up. “We’re going to bear witness to a new age. And you get to be one of those witnesses.” “What are you talking about…? Is Mom all right?” “Mom? Oh yes, she was talking with the wall in the bathroom. She’s fine—she belongs to Dad. Neither you nor Ai needs to suffer for Dad or Mom anymore. This is all thanks to the Great Celty. I’m sure Dad died in some prison somewhere. The Great Celty will rescue Mom at some point. Yes, it’s all okay. Everything will go well, and it will all be okay…” “Stop it… You’re just using the Headless Rider as a means of escape. You’re only bothering that poor woman,” Himeka accused. Aya’s neck nearly twisted itself off as she turned to look at her sister. “Poor woman? You call the Great Celty a poor woman?” Her face was still smiling, but there was a boundless chill emanating from it. “…Yes.” “What would you know about her?” “Plenty. It’s what she said to me,” Himeka replied. The smile vanished from Aya’s face. “…What? What do you mean?” “Well…,” Himeka murmured. Kuon picked up the slack. “Himeka met Celty with me.” It was a direct challenge. All time within the room stopped still. The men standing around Aya were rendered mute by her heavy silence. “…Why?” she said at last, her voice faint. “Why? Why you?” “Aya…” “It makes no sense. This world makes no sense. I have to escape… I have to hurry into the black smoke…,” she muttered to herself. “Stop this, Aya!” Himeka shouted. “I’m certain you didn’t start all this! Who dragged you into it at the beginning?!” “Dragged me…? You’re wrong, Himeka. We dredged it up out of that filthy swamp-like place… If you don’t believe me, look at what a good mood I’m in. See? You understand, don’t you?” “What…? No, I don’t…” They weren’t having a real conversation. Himeka had no idea how to proceed. Behind her, Shiki said softly, “I don’t think you can convince her of anything right now, young lady.” “Huh…?” “Uh…you might want to steel yourself for this one. I think your sister’s on some kind of drugs.” “…!” The steel mask of Himeka’s face actually went slightly pale. “Her eyes, her expression… I’ve seen this before,” he said. “Everyone who tries out the street drug Heaven’s Slave ends up like her. They have that withdrawal reaction as soon as anything unpleasant happens to them. They’re surrounded by bliss, so they can only see and hear things that are convenient for their mental state.” If Aya felt upset about anything, it was learning that Himeka had come into contact with Celty first, she realized at once. And it was clear that her sister wasn’t right. “Oh no…” “But it’s still early. If you can stop her, she’ll recover.” Based on that, Kuon decided to speak up for Himeka while she was still too shocked to react. “Um, hey, are you her sister? Does that mean Ai is all right, too?” The mention of their sister’s name caused Aya to pause briefly. “Ai? Ai…oh! Yes, that’s right. Don’t worry. I’m sure Ai’s doing what she needs to do. She’s going to bring that schoolmate of hers who was talking with the Great Celty and Shizuo Heiwajima.” Shiki and his subordinate twitched at that. “If you’ll pardon my question,” he asked, “do you know what the name of that schoolmate is?” “Oh? Who are you? Well, anyway…I think…yes, she said it was Akane.” “…” “B-Boss!” exclaimed the panicked driver. Shiki scowled bitterly but composed himself again and calmly asked, “Why is she going after that girl?” This time, perhaps because it was something “convenient to her mental state,” Aya gave a proper answer. “Shizuo Heiwajima’s beyond the bounds of human existence, so he has the right to talk to her. But no normal girl can possibly be allowed to consort casually with our hallowed deity,” she said, grinning. Then she kicked Kuon in the head. “Gah…!” “Stop it, Aya!” “It’s all right, Himeka. I’m not going to kill him. I just want him to regret his mistake…and then have him disappear,” Aya said forebodingly. But Himeka didn’t give up. “And then…you’re going to make sure that gets blamed on Celty, too, like all the others?!” Aya craned her neck, mystified by Himeka’s statement. “What do you mean? The Great Celty will make everyone disappear. We understand the will of the Great Celty. And our will is the Great Celty’s will.” “…” “After the Headless Rider vanished from Ikebukuro, we protected her legend. It’s only a series of disappearances now, but soon everyone will start spreading rumors. Rumors that the people taken away by the Headless Rider are passing through shadow into a world without pain.” She was making absolutely no sense and wasn’t hearing them. And the look on her face said she wasn’t blathering on to disregard their questions, but that she really believed she was speaking the truth. The sharp, intelligent writer’s side of her was completely gone. The Aya here was unrecognizable to Himeka—she was nothing but a cultist drowning in blind faith. Himeka looked away slightly but accepted this horrible reality at face value. She’s wrong. But I’m not going to just run away from her or Ai. I’ll never run away from reality…or from the Headless Rider, she swore. “Aya, I’m begging you,” she said. “You need to actually meet the Headless Rider and have a conversation with her. I’m sure you’ll understand after that.” “I’m fine, Himeka. We’re already so, so happy right now. When you create and spread an urban legend, you fall under this illusion that you’re part of that very legend—according to what a senior writer told me. And it’s true. It’s not an illusion. I’m already a part of the Headless Rider,” Aya reveled, joyful madness in her eyes. Himeka stared at her, accepting the sight. But before she could say her next words, the door to the room opened, and a man entered to whisper something into Aya’s ear. “…She did?” Aya murmured and hurried for the door. “I’m sorry, Himeka. Apparently, Ai failed to kidnap that Akane girl.” “Huh?” Himeka’s eyes were big and round. Behind her, Shiki exhaled with relief. “But don’t worry. I’ll make sure to succeed this time.” “Wait, Aya…” But Aya slammed the door shut, leaving only the one guard behind. As though she were running away from the reality Himeka was speaking of. Hachioji “…I didn’t expect I’d be meeting you like this.” After she received the message from Yahiro Mizuchi, Celty headed a short distance away from where the Awakusu-kai figures were gathering to meet up with the boy. “I’m sorry. All this took me off guard, too.” “So why here?” “The truth is…” Once Yahiro had explained the situation, Celty’s shoulders slumped. “Aoba Kuronuma—where did he get that information?” she asked, but she knew that the boy had an information network comparable to Izaya’s. Perhaps he’d tapped the Awakusu-kai somehow. She decided it was best not to think too hard about it. “Anyway,” she continued, “what are you planning to do? Are you going to raid the kidnappers with Aoba and his friends?” “Two of my friends are being held hostage. I can’t just leave them there.” “Well, given my position, I can’t just tell you to let the police handle it…but there’s no need for you to expose yourself to danger, too.” “It might not be necessary, but I still feel like I need to be here. Let me help,” Yahiro said. He knew that he wasn’t being fair or rational, but he couldn’t back down now. “If I stop here, this opportunity I’ve started to grasp is going to slip away from me…” “Opportunity?” Celty asked. Yahiro panicked and shook his head. “A-anyway, I know I’m not necessarily being rational. But…if Kuon and Tatsugami were kidnapped, I might be their next target. I think I could serve as good bait.” “Well, I’ll admit that I didn’t think Himeka would get abducted, too…” If Yahiro were just an ordinary teen, she would easily override him because of the danger, but Celty was aware by now that Yahiro was anything but ordinary. He was like a milder version of Shizuo Heiwajima. She might not need to stop him from getting into a fight, but the problem was they didn’t know who the other side was. It could turn out to be the kind of people who came out guns blazing when the action started. On top of the hot-blooded members of the Awakusu-kai, you’ve also got Dragon Zombie in the mix… And then add the Blue Squares, for good measure. Dragon Zombie and the Blue Squares were not on good terms at all. And between true rivals like Dragon Zombie and Jan-Jaka-Jan, one wrong move could send the relationship spiraling into a turf war. And these are the people who attempted to kidnap Akane, the granddaughter of the head of the Awakusu-kai. They aren’t going to show mercy. They could very well have guns on them right now, Celty thought, focusing on the negative possibilities. She shook her helmet to clear her mind. “What’s your goal here?” she asked Yahiro. “Huh?” “There was a boy who came to Ikebukuro in search of the abnormal. When he made his way to the underside of society, I didn’t stop him. At this point, I don’t know if that was a good idea or a bad one. In the end, he got badly hurt and withdrew from this side of things. If you have a real purpose in mind and you get hurt, that’s on you. But I wouldn’t recommend getting involved with this if you’re just being swayed by a momentary emotional swing.” She was reminiscing on some rather vivid memories from the recent past that could have relevance with the boy she now faced. “Tell me,” she continued. “Did you come to this city with a certain determination in mind, a goal you wanted to achieve?” Yahiro was silent for a while. Then he looked right back at her and said, “Celty.” “What is it?” “…I’m going to say something extremely rude. Something I deserve to be punched for saying.” “Um, I’m not going to punch you for asking a question…,” she typed, tilting her helmet in bewilderment. Yahiro took a deep breath and steeled his courage for the confession he was going to make. About why he had come to this place. About what people called him back home. “How does it feel…to have everyone call you a monster?” Mansion basement “Oh no, what should I do? I have to do something, or that poor Akane girl will…” Himeka was crestfallen by the fact that she wasn’t able to talk sense into her sister, but true to form, she muffled that sadness and focused on practical matters. Behind her, Shiki said, “Your sister and her friends aren’t going to get a second chance.” “?” Kuon sensed her confusion and answered in Shiki’s stead. “Most likely, the Akane she mentioned is Akane Awakusu. She’s the granddaughter of the boss of the Awakusu-kai.” “…You know a lot, kid,” Shiki muttered. “I go to the same dojo as her.” “…Oh, so you’re with Rakuei Gym,” he said, the pieces clicking into place. Kuon nodded and lowered his voice so the guard couldn’t overhear. “Meaning…the people here at this mansion have made mortal enemies of the Awakusu-kai.” Shiki picked up from there. “Mistress Akane’s had someone keeping an eye on her. So you can assume that whoever attempted to kidnap her is being trailed at the moment.” “Uh, meaning…” “There are several Awakusu men on their way here right now, young lady.” “…” Himeka looked conflicted about this. Her relief at the prospect of rescue was being outweighed by concern that her sister was making enemies of the yakuza. “Hey, what are you whispering about over there?” asked the guard suspiciously, noticing that they’d been muttering under their breath to one another. “Oh, I’m sorry about that,” said Shiki. “We were worried that the floor was going to be stained with blood.” “Blood?” the man repeated, coming closer. He really was an amateur. He walked right in between the four of them to examine it, without a care in the world. That was when the base of Shiki’s palm smashed the bridge of his nose. “Brguh…” Blood spurted from his nostrils as his head shot backward. At some point, Shiki had worked his limbs free of their binding. He leaped to his feet and grabbed the man’s right wrist and head, lifting firmly. “And now…” “Aieee!” He had the man’s wrist pinned behind his back and yanked hard on his hair. Then, manipulating the man’s center of gravity, Shiki smashed his face against the corner of the shelf. “…!” The man exhaled in a silent scream. Shiki grappled with him again, this time slamming his face directly against the ground. There was an ugly crunch, telling the others that the man’s nose was thoroughly broken. The unconscious man’s face bled profusely onto the floor. “See? Now it’s stained, isn’t it?” Shiki commented. Kuon’s mouth fell open with shock. “When did you get loose…? Huh…?” “I could have worked my way free at any time, but I decided to stay put until I knew who they were. We make a living tying people up. You think I can’t see through amateur work…?” “Um, excuse me…,” interrupted Shiki’s bald subordinate, while his boss felt around for his victim’s smartphone. “Mr. Shiki…? I couldn’t get loose. Could you help me…?” Outside the mansion “I see. And that’s why you were looking for me and Shizuo…,” Celty typed, showing Yahiro the words on her screen. “Do you think Shizuo is a monster?” “…In terms of strength.” “And outside of strength?” “…He was nice.” Inside her mind, Celty whistled. There were very few people she’d ever met who could take punches from Shizuo and immediately say he was “nice” when asked. “He was angry on behalf of you and his brother. The way he was angry for his friends, rather than himself, just seemed incredible to me.” “That’s true.” Although he’s also getting mad because of himself all the time, too, she thought, but it wasn’t worth derailing the conversation, so she let him continue. “He’s been called a monster by so many more people than I have, but he lives such an honest, straightforward life… It made me wonder what I should do to be more like him…” Straight…forward…? All she could think of were the street signs and postboxes that Shizuo had destroyed. It seemed like the boy was overestimating Shizuo’s nature, but again she didn’t contradict him. She was a serial traffic violator, so she had no room to talk. “It made me think, maybe I’m not actually alone, after all… That if I came to Ikebukuro, I could talk with other people who’ve been called monsters and find an actual reason for me to live… I’m sorry—I know it’s presumptuous.” “No, you don’t need to apologize. It’s true that people see me as a monster, after all,” she said and then took her helmet right off her shoulders. “!” The only thing underneath it was the cross section of a neck, from which that black shadow exuded. Yahiro was alarmed at the suddenness of it all, but once he got his breathing under control, he said, “You really…aren’t human.” “You’re not frightened.” “No, my knees are knocking,” he admitted, swallowing hard. He clenched his fists and opened his mouth to exhale. What really frightened him was not Celty’s headless appearance—it was the fear he felt when being faced with his own insignificance in the presence of the real thing. “I suppose it must really annoy you to be lumped in with posers like me, who only get called monsters because of the things we do.” “Why not be one?” She thrust the smartphone under his chin as he tried to bow in apology, forcing him to stop. “…Huh?” “If you don’t want to be a poser, you should try just being a monster.” That was a suggestion that the Celty of just a few years ago would never have made. “Don’t be afraid of becoming a monster.” There was a time in Celty’s life when she was much more fixated on the thought that she wasn’t human. She created a rift between herself and all humanity. “Even if you wound up with a headless body like mine…you’re still you.” That rift hadn’t vanished because she decided to be human. It was because she’d been blessed with a very fortunate encounter. “The world is so much bigger than you think. Believe in your life… Well, I probably shouldn’t say that—it’s too grandiose. But whether you turn into a monster or not, somewhere out there are people who will believe in you and people who will love you.” She was thinking of the face of the man who gave her his purest affection—love for a monster. It was the face of the man she gave her purest love to in return. “People…who will believe in me?” “As long as you don’t stop believing in that person you’ll meet someday, you’re a human being, you’re a monster… “And you’re always Yahiro Mizuchi.” “Ah…” For just an instant, Yahiro thought he saw the headless woman smile. Just that little illusion was enough. The Headless Rider’s smile was the best possible opportunity for him to move forward than he could possibly have hoped for. Mansion basement Shiki untied his bald subordinate and ordered him to free Kuon and Himeka, after which Shiki turned on the unconscious guard’s smartphone and used the maps application to check their present location. Using that address, he did an online search to identify the real estate listing of the building they were in. “What a convenient age we live in,” he muttered, looking at a title that said Mansion, Owner: Shijima Realty. Apparently, all the properties in this area were owned and sold by the Shijima Group. He remembered that name. I see now. So that’s why I got captured. Shijima was the only one dealing Heaven’s Slave…so when I was investigating the Headless Rider’s case, they caught sight of me and figured it was two birds with one stone. By abducting a mobster like Shiki, Shijima could make the public think the Headless Rider was finally going after the Awakusu-kai, and he could also get revenge against the man who crushed his drug-dealing operation. But why now? Using the Headless Rider’s worshippers as a front to bring back his old operation…? Is he really stupid enough to try that with a group of amateurs? If it was really Shijima doing all this, he should probably have come to finish off Shiki himself by now. The questions kept flowing through Shiki’s mind, but he decided he didn’t have enough information on hand to reach a conclusion. He shifted his thoughts to the near future instead. First of all, he’d use the smartphone to contact his direct superior in the gang, Mikiya Awakusu. Shiki had the numbers of all the central officers memorized just for situations like this, so he dialed the number directly and placed the call. “…Who is this?” Mikiya said upon answering, suspicious of the unfamiliar number. “I’m sorry, Mikiya. It’s me.” “Shiki?! Where are you now?!” “In Hachioji. I’ve slipped in among the kidnappers. Is the mistress safe?” “I just got word that she’d nearly been taken. Your men chased them off. I’m grateful.” It was a very brief thanks, but Shiki didn’t mind. He explained his situation to Mikiya but did not mention Aya or her sister, out of respect for Himeka, who was nearby. “A couple of them are junkies, but I’d bet Shijima is the one behind this operation. Right now I mean to find out if there’s someone else manipulating him even further in the shadows.” “Akabayashi’s pet bikers and the youngbloods under Aozaki’s wing are heading there now. Be careful you don’t get caught in the cross fire,” Mikiya warned. Shiki’s brow furrowed. “Aozaki’s not giving them weapons, is he?” Aozaki’s faction was the most aggressive in the Awakusu-kai. They were all short-tempered and itching to fight, including Aozaki himself. If they started shooting civilians—even junkie civilians—it could spell the end of the Awakusu-kai itself. “We just have to trust he’ll be rational about it. If I could, I’d raid that place myself right now.” “I’ll do my best not to make things worse,” Shiki promised. After a few more traded comments, he ended the call and turned back to Kuon and Himeka. “We’re going to head outside now. I think you’re better off not leaving this room right now.” “No…I’m going. I’m worried about my sister,” said Himeka, crisp and firm. She was not intimidated by the knowledge of Shiki’s occupation. Shiki was impressed, but he had no reason to escort an amateur around. He was starting to worry that he shouldn’t have untied them so quickly, when he heard footsteps descending the stairs to the door. He glanced toward his associate, who nodded and snuck over to the door. As soon as it opened, the bald man leaped onto the person who walked through—and got knocked clean out, his eyes rolling back into his head. “!” Shiki held his breath at the sight of that vivid blow, fierce and accurate to the temple. But before he could worry about the potential danger, he noticed the figure behind the first person through the door. Aside from the helmet, it appeared to be made entirely out of shadow. “Tatsugami! Kuon! You’re all right!” As soon as they recognized that it was Yahiro rushing toward them, Himeka’s and Kuon’s eyes went wide. “Mizuchi?!” “Yahiro?! And…Celty?!” Yahiro was relieved that his two friends didn’t seem to be hurt—but no sooner had he felt that relief than the sight of the man standing near them sent a shiver down his spine. Years of experience and innate instinct were telling him the same thing. That the man standing there was extremely dangerous—in a different way than Shizuo. But the first thing that menacing man did was bow to Celty. “You’ve really saved me this time, Celty.” “Mr. Shiki! You’re all right!” “Yes, somehow. Good job figuring out we were underground.” “We snuck in the rear side, then found a guard and threatened him into telling us where you were,” she typed. “I don’t think you needed to threaten them,” Shiki noted. “Huh? Actually, now that you mention it, he was, like, laughing and crying at the same time… It was a very strange reaction…” “I bet. In any case, it’s a good thing you showed up here first. I can leave these teenagers with you while the fighting happens,” he said, glancing at Kuon and Himeka. This was enough to tell Yahiro that the man wasn’t a threat—but then he had a horrible realization. “Wait…does that mean this man…wasn’t one of the kidnappers?” he asked, looking down at the unconscious bald man at his feet. The man with the piercing gaze just smirked and said, “We were the ones who jumped you with the wrong idea first, so don’t worry. He’ll be too embarrassed to tell anyone he got knocked out by a high school student, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t.” Yahiro felt relieved and bowed again. “I see. Please give him my apologies when he comes to.” Ordinarily, he would want to wake the man up and apologize directly, but there was no time for that now. He turned back to his friends. “Let’s get out of here. Things are going to turn dicey.” But Himeka shook her head. “Wait. I can’t leave my sister behind.” “Oh, that’s right. Your sisters were kidnapped, too. I guess they’re not keeping them in here with you,” Celty typed, trying to reassure Himeka. “I’ll be the decoy, so you join the others and escape out the back when you get the chance. All right?” “…No. You don’t understand, Celty.” “Huh?” To Celty’s surprise, Himeka bit her lip, then explained, “Both of my sisters…are part of the kidnapping group…” “Wha…? Wh-what does that mean?!” she exclaimed. Shiki gave her a sardonic answer: “I’ll tell you what it means. This all happened because you spent too much time relaxing on vacation.” Mansion area “…What are you Dragon Zombie scrubs doing around here?” “You think that doesn’t apply to you? If Jan-Jaka-Jan’s meeting is up in Hachioji, does that mean you’re finally takin’ your asses out of Ikebukuro for good?” Multiple groups were gathering at the mansion lot, which naturally led to some exhibitions of gang rivalry. The senior members of both Dragon Zombie and Jan-Jaka-Jan understood the situation and were taking it in stride, but the hotheaded lower members were starting scuffles here and there. “Oh yeah? You guys ain’t with these fuckin’ kidnappers, are you?” “Quit howlin’, Awakusu dogs. Are your noses so bad that you can’t tell our scent from these filthy kidnappers?” “Huhnnn?” “Uh-huh!” They started growling and motioning across the way toward each other. A distant camera was recording the entire thing. “Well, that’s just great. The people inside the mansion must have noticed by now.” In a corner of a nearby parking garage, Aoba had a handheld video camera rolling from inside the van. “Your voice is getting recorded.” “It’s fine—I can edit that out later.” “So when are we supposed to go and raid them anyway?” his friend asked. “Once we know who it is,” Aoba answered. “Depending on the answer, it might lead to a fight between Dragon Zombie and Jan-Jaka-Jan, so that might be our cue to move.” Another one of his companions, who was peering through a set of binoculars with night vision, warned them of some action at the scene. “Hey, the group’s heading for the mansion entrance.” “Let’s see… Uh-oh, that’s not Jan-Jaka-Jan. That’s one level higher. The scary gentlemen from the Awakusu-kai,” Aoba muttered, using the zoom feature of the camera. There was already a bit of a fight happening near the entrance. “Oooh, is it starting? How is this one going to play out…?” Aoba wondered aloud, gleefully observing the action. Then he noticed a flickering light in the upper left corner of the screen. “Huh?” By the time he noticed the small flame, the point of light had already grown in size, describing an arc from the second floor of the mansion toward the outside of the grounds. A Molotov?! The moment he recognized it, there was the sound of shattering glass, and flames spread rapidly across the ground. “Whaaa—?! The hell is this?!” “Who did that?!” “Was it you assholes?!” The Molotov cocktail seemed to come from nowhere. And given the volatile state of the two gangs, it was just the right spark to ignite them. As soon as the first person threw a punch, a brawl erupted in all places at once. “Awww, just look at how aggressive these guys are. Jan-Jaka-Jan gets so ornery when they’re against us, and the reverse is just as true,” said Libei with exasperation. He watched the fight breaking out from a distance. “But now that it’s started, there’s nothing else to do.” While he sounded regretful, his eyes glittered with pleasure. A number of younger Jan-Jaka-Jan members rushed up on him from behind with metal pipes. “Die, Libeiiii!” they screamed, swinging their weapons. Libei spun around, flashing something silver. The pipes clanged loudly as they struck metal—but then they fell into pieces and clattered on the ground. Dumbfounded, Jan-Jaka-Jan saw that he was holding in each hand a liuyedao, a single-edged saber. After a quick comparison between the sorry state of their pipes and their opponent’s curved blades, they shrieked and fled. “Those must be their newest recruits, then. It’s so hard to find good muscle these days.” Libei chuckled, shaking his head. He headed onward, not to stop his companions but to take part in the newly beginning festival and see the conclusion from its midst. Meanwhile, the younger members of the Awakusu-kai recognized that the projectiles were thrown from inside the mansion. While they were momentarily startled by the attack, they quickly pressed toward the entrance, shouting angrily. This elicited a new Molotov, aimed right for where they gathered. And that wasn’t all. Flaming bottles flew from other adjacent properties, too, toward any and all groups approaching the mansion. Among the items thrown was something like tear gas. The Shijima Group’s property was thrown into instant chaos. “Shit! Hey, get the guns!” “No, you idiot! Aozaki will kill us!” “We can’t just sit back and take this!” “Where’s Izumii?! Send him in with a weapon!” “No way! Fire’s the one thing Izumii’s afraid of!” As screams and shouts filled the air, someone even tried to drive their vehicle into the mansion. The sounds of destruction broke the silence of the forest, and the flames from the Molotov cocktails shone against the smoke of the tear gas, lighting up the night. “This is getting crazy now,” murmured Aoba as he caught the event on video. “Hey, what happened to that Yahiro kid?” “He’s meeting with the Headless Rider. And whenever I show up around her, she makes an unpleasant face…or…unpleasant gesture, I guess.” “So you’re just going to ignore them?” “No, I’m very eager to see how the Headless Rider and Yahiro will react. Capturing that reaction on video is practically why I’m doing this,” Aoba said, grinning to himself. And right on cue with his hopes… Qrrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhh! An engine roar like the whinnying of a horse cut through the havoc and destruction at the mansion. The fiercest reaction to that eerie engine sound came from the people inside the building. “That sound… I know that sound… It’s the Headless Rider’s motorcycle!” “You’re right! Where…where is it?!” Aya and Ai, who had been throwing flaming bottles from the upstairs of the mansion, looked about with tears of joy streaming down their cheeks. Aya leaned out the window, searching for the source of the sound. Then, among the glow of the fire and billowing smoke, atop the roof of the adjacent home, she saw something incredible. It was the source of their twisted faith—the Headless Rider, Celty Sturluson. “Oh…ohhh… She’s come… She’s finally come! She’s here to save us!” Aya exclaimed, weeping, as she beheld the sight of Celty atop her motorcycle on the roof. However, her sister Ai lifted a trembling finger. “Aya… Who is…that?” She was pointing at a shadow of pitch-black, seated right behind the rider. It was darkness incarnate. If the Headless Rider was wearing a riding suit the color of darkness, this was more like the writhing smoke from dry ice condensed into the shape of a human being. But who was it? Was it even a person? The only people to ask these questions were the scant few who actually noticed them on the roof. But in the next moment, every single person present would become aware of the shadow man. “” A roar bellowed from the rooftop. It tore through the night and extinguished all the screams below. The men punching one another, and even those fleeing from the flames, found themselves pausing in the midst of the action. The roar sent them a signal that their animal instinct obeyed. Overwhelming fear drowned out the encroaching flames and the enemy combatants nearby. “What…is…that?” gasped one of the bikers, but no one could answer that question. In Ikebukuro, the Headless Rider was a known quantity, a monster everyone knew. But the monster behind her was a complete unknown. The hairs on the back of every person’s neck rose sharply. The only sounds left were the hum of the flames and the coughing of those afflicted by tear gas. One of the bikers couldn’t hold it in any longer and threw his metal pipe at the figure on the roof. “Who the hell are you?!” a biker yelled. The shadow easily grabbed the hurled pipe, however—then started running down the roof. It seemed like he was going to leap right off, but instead he dropped to the veranda on the second floor and faced off against the “kidnappers” there. On the second floor of the other mansion was a group of about five large, strong men. When they saw the shadow man reaching for them, trying to destroy their flaming bottles, the men screamed, “Wh-what do you want?” and tried to grab him.
Chapter 31
47 min read