Chapter 5

CHAPTER 1 B The Visitor Ikebukuro—April A boy from Akita came to Ikebukuro that day. In this place, almost no one knew that he was feared as a monster in his hometown. It was a completely new location for him, a doorway into an entirely new world. Ikebukuro was ready to welcome in a fresh face. But whether this was indeed a new world for the boy or not would depend upon where fate would lead him, and whose orbit he would enter. When he got off the bullet train and onto the Yamanote Line, he was shocked by the chaos of the Tokyo train experience. It was his first emotional reaction to the big city. He had visited a few months ago to take the exams for his new school and then again last month to handle the final registration. But because he was staying with his relatives and got a car ride from the airport, he hadn’t experienced the proper crush of mass transit here. On this day, when he left his country home and traveled to the big city alone to reach his new place, the boy belatedly felt his first pangs of regret at choosing to attend high school in Tokyo. People, people, people. Every direction he turned was packed, and back home, he hadn’t experienced this kind of proximity to crowds, even at the most hectic festival events. He was starting to feel dizzy in the crowd when a nearby sound distracted him: Adjacent passengers talking about rumors and gossip. “Speakin’ of Ikebukuro, is the Headless Rider still there?” “I wonder. You don’t see it in the news anymore.” “There was also that whole Dollars thing.” “Yeah, they were around the same time as the Headless Rider, right?” He couldn’t even move, it was so crowded, so the boy couldn’t help but overhear their comments, although he had no idea what the people talking looked like. Based on their voices and way of speaking, however, he could guess that they were girls in high school or college. Other sounds filled the train car, and the chaotic rhythm of it all made him feel queasy. Eventually the train arrived at Ikebukuro Station, and the wave of humanity washed him right out of the car and down the stairs of the platform. “Ikefukuro…,” he muttered. The person from his apartment building had said to meet here. It was apparently a well-known spot. He was three minutes ahead of the meeting time. While he assumed he would be there in plenty of time, he was unable to find this Ikefukuro location, and by the time he had followed the station employees’ answers to the right place, he was ten minutes late. Ikefukuro, it turned out, was a statue of an owl. That clicked the answer into place—fukuro meant “owl.” But the space around the statue was absolutely stuffed with people. This was clearly a default meetup spot, and there was nowhere to stand because it was completely surrounded. Fortunately, he soon heard a voice directed at him. “Hi there, Yahiro. What’s it been, about a month?” He spun around and saw a man around age thirty wearing a suit. Recognizing the man, the boy—Yahiro Mizuchi—quickly bowed in greeting. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Togusa.” “Hey, it’s cool; you don’t have to get all formal,” said the man, walking closer. “I’ll escort you home, then. Let’s take a taxi.” He smiled, all prim and proper, and Yahiro bobbed his head again. This man’s name was Jirou Togusa. He was a distant relative of Yahiro’s father, who had taken the Mizuchi name when he married, and he was a young entrepreneur who managed several apartment buildings around Ikebukuro. The apartment building adjacent to his home had an open unit, so he decided to lend it to Yahiro for lodging during his high school years. Yahiro was worried that it might be too much of an imposition, giving out a room for three whole years. But Jirou’s older sister, who managed that building, reassured him, “Don’t worry. That’s a problematic apartment anyway, so we’re not going to have any ordinary clients moving in there one way or another.” That was an unwelcome bit of news. “The truth is, I was going to have Saburo pick you up again, like he did when you came for your exam, but he’s going to a Ruri Hijiribe concert today, so he was unavailable.” Jirou chuckled ruefully in the back seat of the taxi, referring to his younger brother. “Saburo is crazy for her. If I recall correctly, I think his membership number in her fan club is in the single digits.” Saburo was the owner of a large van, and he was the one who gave Yahiro his rides when he visited for the school entrance exam. But for some reason, there were two of his friends in the back seat, a boy and girl, who spent the entire time talking about manga and anime, so Yahiro had very little memory of the guy who actually gave him the ride. “Is Ruri Hijiribe popular in your generation, too?” “Oh…yes. I’m a fan.” “Ah, good. It’s good to be popular among the younger kids. I’m not big on idol culture or anything like that, but I’m very grateful to her in particular. My brother was a real ruffian, always getting into fights, but once he found an interest in her, it really shaped him into a proper person.” “…Fights?” Yahiro repeated warily. Jirou laughed, unaware of what that might mean. “Yeah, I don’t know much about that side of things, either—just that there were Blue somethings and the Dolls or whatever. He was involved in those groups. Now, he chums around with a couple of his friends. The leader of their little group is a guy named Kadota. It’s strange; he’s got this old-fashioned manliness about him. Works as a plasterer, so we’ve paid him to do some wall repairs on our buildings from time to time.” “Mr. Kadota, you say…?” “That’s right. Ikebukuro used to be overrun with street gangs a few years back. Then kids from Saitama would rush in and start big brawls. It was quite wild. But I hardly ever see those matching colors anymore. Even the kids with the yellow bandannas disappeared around last year or so.” Yahiro was more on the silent side, so Jirou was the one doing all the talking. But that was a welcome development for Yahiro. It had been a very long time since anyone who wasn’t his family spoke to him like a normal person like this. He was curious. How much did this guy hear about me from my family? Yahiro was aware of the kind of public figure he’d become in his hometown. That was why he had sought out this new horizon for himself. He’d been dragged into fights he didn’t want ever since he was a little boy. If he had learned to just brush off bullies with a pleasant smile or two, he might have avoided the violence that ensued, but by the time he had grown enough to understand this, it was already too late for his reputation. There were three things he hoped for in his new start in Ikebukuro. First, he hoped he could lead a normal life in a distant place that had never heard of his infamy. Second, if that was not possible, and he got wrapped up in fights anyway, he hoped that being in a place where superhuman inhabitants were a familiar part of life meant that he wouldn’t be called a monster anymore. That traveler he met at the inn, at least, agreed that he was human. That alone felt like a great salvation. And the last thing that he hoped to have in Ikebukuro was a glimmer of optimism for his own future, something he’d largely given up on based on his last few years of life. For now, though, he knew nothing about this place. Everything he’d learned was from the Internet and magazines. He hadn’t seen any of it for himself. Yahiro steeled himself for the task ahead and observed the city outside the taxi through the window. Jirou Togusa noticed him staring intently out the window and thought, Ah, look at him watching so closely. He’s probably got dreams of this new chapter of his life filling up his chest. He’s a good kid. I hope Saburo learns something from him. He hadn’t actually heard anything about Yahiro from the Mizuchis’ side. He didn’t know the first thing about the boy with him. He had no idea how much terror the teenager inspired back in his hometown. That was how a new boy came to Ikebukuro. Just like all the other visitors, Ikebukuro welcomed him into its territory. That was all that happened. At least at this point in time. Raira Academy—several days later Once the school ceremony was over and Yahiro went to his homeroom class, he was greeted by a very typical school event: new students introducing themselves to the rest of the class. One by one, in seat number order, they stood in front of the blackboard, saying their names and providing a brief introduction of themselves. The seating chart was determined by Japanese alphabetical order, which put Mizuchi close to the end. Yahiro watched the event proceed with a pleasant mixture of excitement and nerves, soaking in the feeling of starting a new chapter in his life. “I’m Kuon Kotonami. Heya.” Something in the class undeniably changed when one particular boy took his turn. Yahiro had spotted him a few times before and after the entrance ceremony, but he didn’t realize that they would be in the same class. That’s a wild hair color. It’s green… Oh, right, this school lets you have dyed hair and piercings. He decided this classmate must be in a band or something like that. Or maybe it was normal fashion for Tokyo—he’d never seen it back home. But then Yahiro noticed the other people in class seemed equally fascinated and thought better of this assumption. Well, based on the way he talks, he doesn’t seem like a total barbarian…I think. He tried to remember the various people who had tangled with him back home, but the memories were vague. To Yahiro, those delinquents were not so much people as beings that came threatening unfair violence—objects of fear. And in the end, he was always the one who got called a monster. That wasn’t fair. He was the one who wanted to call them monsters. They were the ones threatening strangers with violence for no reason at all—wasn’t that enough to warrant the label? Thinking about his past was making Yahiro feel depressed. He decided he should focus on the introductions again to put that feeling out of his mind. But the green-haired boy had left such an impact on Yahiro that he didn’t really pay that much attention until a very pretty girl took her turn. “I’m Himeka Tatsugami. It’s nice to meet you,” she said. She had a slender figure, black hair, and did not wear much makeup. She had a quiet demeanor but was not bashful or intimidated. The girl was simply self-assured and pure of heart, and her voice made Yahiro feel calm just from listening to it. Huh. I thought that all the girls in Tokyo were, like, smearing shoe polish all over their faces. I guess not. What was that trend called again? Ganguro? What kind of research on Tokyo had Yahiro done, either in magazines or websites, before he came here? For some reason, he was envisioning the metropolitan teen trends from over a decade before, so the fact that most of the girls in class weren’t sporting tans and flashy makeup was stunning to him. While he silently grappled with this culture shock, the class introductions continued running down the list—until at last, it was his turn. “Uh…I’m Yahiro Mizuchi. I came from Akita. It’s nice to meet you.” There we go. I didn’t let any funky Akita dialect into my introduction…right? Yahiro’s father was born in Tokyo, and many of the tourists at the inn came from here, too. He’d had enough books and DVDs around the house and enough exposure to the standard Tokyo dialect that it wasn’t hard for him to do it, too. In fact, because he rarely spoke at school and had no friends, it was harder for him to speak the particular dialect of his home region. But while he couldn’t actually speak in the very strong accent his grandmother and mother used, he could understand it. And because his grandmother needed to be able to understand standard Japanese to run the inn, there was never any trouble communicating around the house. Still, he’d been worried that he might not be able to adequately speak this dialect of Japanese. Judging by the reactions of the class, it seemed he did fine. Looking from the front of the class over the rows of seats, he was keenly aware that all their eyes were concentrated on him. But those eyes were full of only curiosity—no fear or disgust or hatred. And the students who had no interest in him didn’t bother to meet his gaze at all. Now that he was here, the boy felt certain of one thing: This was a fresh environment for him, a place where his reputation could start over from scratch. He stood there, savoring a feeling that only he could understand, until there was some light questioning from the class, as they’d done with the others. Yahiro assumed no one would have any questions for him, and he’d end up returning to his seat without needing to answer anything. But one of the girls latched onto the keyword Akita and asked him a question without raising her hand first. “Why did you come here from Akita? It’s not like this school is a university feeder or anything.” That was a perfectly reasonable question, but he wasn’t sure how to respond. Why had he come to Ikebukuro? It wasn’t because he was fascinated by the big city and wanted to be in it. He didn’t have family problems that forced him to move. That was when he came to a realization. If Raira Academy was a famous school along the university track, that would be one thing. But the vast majority of students here were local or from neighboring prefectures. The idea that someone would move here from Akita, all the way in northeast Japan, made Yahiro a strange and curious phenomenon to them. But Yahiro was not the kind of person built to come up with convincing lies on the spot. And he didn’t think that lying about this would be worth it. But on the other hand…I probably shouldn’t mention the fighting. I think. He’d spent a lonely childhood being shunned by others who were frightened of him, so Yahiro didn’t quite have the social skills to maneuver through this kind of awkward situation. But he thought hard and fast, and he arrived at an answer that wasn’t a lie but also concealed a major part of his story. “Um…” If only it hadn’t sounded like a bit of a joke to his classmates. “…I came here to see the Headless Rider.” They chuckled and giggled, but that reaction only confused him. …??? Did I say something funny? It wasn’t mocking laughter, more like polite chuckles for the new student telling a joke. There was no social faux pas happening. But Yahiro couldn’t avoid a sudden panic at the idea that perhaps the Headless Rider was never real. What was he supposed to do then? “I guess that makes sense. There’s no Headless Rider in Akita!” “I see the rider all the time.” “But not much lately, right?” said a group of girls to Yahiro’s relief. Oh, good. So the Headless Rider is real. A quick survey of the room brought something to his attention, however. Two of the people who had not been paying attention during Yahiro’s introduction were now watching him with keen interest. …? One was the green-haired boy named Kuon Kotonami. The other was the pretty girl named Himeka Tatsugami. Kuon was smiling, but it was a different kind of smile from the others, it seemed to Yahiro. His eyes were gleaming the way a child’s do when he sees a cool toy. While that was worrisome, Yahiro was more worried about Himeka’s gaze. There was no real expression on her face—but it especially was not a smile. Her eyes were only sharp and cold, staring at him intently—but in his current state, he was unable to come up with anything to say to her. After school His first day of school successfully finished, Yahiro began to gather his belongings. The students around him had already gotten ready to leave, and they took off, chatting with their friends and acquaintances from middle school. Naturally, he did not know anyone from middle school here. And if he did, they would be anything but friends. None of them would want to walk home from school with him, that much was certain. Friends… I’ve never had friends. He sighed, thinking, If I do make one, they’ll probably freak out if they find out about my past. If it’s going to end in misery and rejection no matter what, maybe it’ll be easier not to make friends at all. Yahiro put his papers away, slung his bag over his shoulder, and stood up. Then he crossed over to the window to look outside. The sight of Ikebukuro was dramatically different from what he was used to back home. He felt a strange kind of elation come over him. What is this feeling? I guess it’s…excitement? I don’t think I’ve ever felt this emotion before. There was a throbbing pulse deep in his gut that traveled upward, forcing a grin to break out over his face. Assuming that the classroom would be empty by now, he spun around on his heel… …and came face-to-face with a girl. He flinched, and then he looked at her again. It was a face he couldn’t forget. Himeka Tatsugami was staring at him the same way she had earlier. “…Is something funny?” she asked, rubbing her cheek. Yahiro came back to his senses with a start. He realized that he was still grinning from ear to ear. “Er, no, nothing. I was just looking at the city and smiling.” “…Is there something funny about it?” “No, not really.” “Uh-huh…,” murmured Himeka. She looked over her shoulder at the sight out the window. Yahiro had no idea what he should do in this situation, so he froze in place. The classroom was completely empty except for the two of them. Wasn’t she going to leave school with her local friends? When she’d had her fill of looking out the window, she turned back to Yahiro and said, “You’re strange.” “Uh…I am?” What should I do? Maybe I’ve actually said something really rude to her. When she called him “strange,” he didn’t sense that it was said with hostility or mockery. But Yahiro had so little positive human interaction in his life, he couldn’t eliminate the nagging feeling that he had made some mistake along the way. The girl’s face was still an emotionless mask. “Hey.” “Wh-what?” “Was that a joke earlier? Or were you serious?” “Earlier?” What should I do? Maybe I did do something wrong. He thought back on all the things he’d done today, but before he could figure it out, she elaborated, “When you said you wanted to see the Headless Rider, during your introduction.” “Huh?” Yahiro nervously said with a pause. Then he recalled what he’d done. “Ohhh, that…” “Well? Was it a joke?” “…Did everyone think that was a joke?” “Huh?” Now it was Himeka’s turn to be confused. “I mean, I assume that’s why they laughed.” “Oh, okay… I get it now.” So they thought I was joking. That’s why they were laughing. But…why did they think it was a joke? Is wanting to see the Headless Rider such a strange reason for coming here? To the people of Ikebukuro, the Headless Rider was no longer a rare or novel thing. So they assumed that no one would actually choose to spend three whole years of their life in school here to see something so ordinary. They figured it had to be a joke. They didn’t realize that to Yahiro, this was more than just three years—it was something that had the potential to change the course of his entire life. This girl couldn’t possibly know that, either. “Well, thanks for telling me,” he said. “That answers my question.” She looked slightly befuddled at that. She didn’t know why he would be thanking her. But her overall expression did not break. Instead, she asked, “Then…you’re serious?” “Well, it’s one of my reasons.” “…Oh,” Himeka murmured. Then she stated flatly, “I don’t think you should.” “Huh?” “Don’t dig too deeply into the Headless Rider.” “Why not?” His tone was frank. But Himeka only shook her head. “I can’t tell you.” “Huh?” “The point is, I’ve given you a warning.” Then she turned on her heel and started marching away. “Wait!” An ordinary boy might have been rooted to the spot, helplessly watching her go—but Yahiro’s reflexes, honed by years of fighting, kicked in automatically as she left. Without a moment’s hesitation, he reached out, grabbed the back of her collar, and forcefully yanked her backward. “Huh…llgh…” The pressure on her throat stopped her breathing as he dragged her back. “…!” She flopped and kicked her legs, until Yahiro realized what he was doing and hastily let go. “What?! I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…” Once her coughing subsided, Himeka continued breathing heavily and fixed Yahiro with a stare. “…I wasn’t expecting you to hold me back to the point of strangulation,” she said, although there was no hatred there, only pure shock. But for some reason, either from her innate nature or perhaps some inability on her part to express herself, it was simply impossible to read the look on her face. “I’m really sorry. Are you all right?” “Yes, I’m fine now.” “Sorry…I just got really scared.” “…Scared?” she repeated. Yahiro explained, “Yeah. See, I’m more cowardly than the average person… And you said something that worried me and claimed you couldn’t explain it…so I got really scared all of a sudden. Er, not that any of this excuses what I did. I’m sorry.” He bowed deeply to show his contrition. Himeka exhaled deeply and said, “So you’re cowardly…but you want to see the Headless Rider?” “Yeah. Because I’m cowardly.” “?” “I’ve been through a lot.” That didn’t seem to clear things up for Himeka, who had no response. But when she realized he wasn’t going to elaborate on it, she said, “You really are strange.” “You think so?” “Why don’t we make a trade, then?” “A trade?” Yahiro repeated. It was his turn to be confused. “If you tell me why you want to see the Headless Rider, I’ll tell you why I think you should stay away,” she said. It was still blunt, but her demeanor seemed a bit more positive than before. “Well…” “It can be tomorrow, though. It’s not like you’re going to walk around the city looking for the Headless Rider today, right?” “W-well, it’s only my first day here,” he admitted. She nodded slowly. “Then I guess you’ll be fine.” Himeka straightened out her collar, then started walking away. When she reached the door of the classroom, she paused and turned back to him again. “I’m sorry.” “Huh?” He didn’t understand why she would be apologizing. She went on. “What I said earlier… I didn’t mean to frighten you. It really was just a warning.” All Yahiro could do was watch as she left. This time, he did not pull her back. Outside the school gate “Man, I really should have apologized about grabbing her collar one more time for good measure,” Yahiro lamented, plodding off the school grounds and stewing in self-loathing. As he passed through the gate, a boy called out to him. “Hey! How ya doin’, Yahiro?” It sounded like someone greeting a friend he’d known for years. But in fact, it was a boy he’d just met today at the class introductions—someone whose face only needed one glance to recognize. “Uhhh…Kotomine, was it?” “What? No, no! It’s Kotonami! Ko-to-na-mi! But you can call me Kuon. It’s easier to remember, right? Since I already jumped ahead to calling you Yahiro, that makes us even!” Kuon Kotonami chuckled, and his green-dyed hair waved in the wind. Much like with Himeka minutes earlier, Yahiro was initially confused as to why his classmate had singled him out for intimate conversation. Um…did I do something to him? But in the meantime, Kuon rattled him with a barrage of machine-gun chatter. “I was waiting for you to come out, but you never did. Thought maybe you were checking out the school or something. I probably should have done that, too, come to think of it. Tomorrow’s when all the school clubs get to start recruiting new students, so it’ll be harder to take a nice easy tour. Did you already decide what club or committee you wanna join? I’d recommend the library committee. What do you think? Personally, I think they’re all annoying, so I’m not gonna bother joining anything.” “…Oh. Thanks for telling me,” Yahiro replied, unsure of what else to say. Kuon slapped him on the back and continued talking. “I just had a feeling when you made your introduction! I knew I would be good friends with you, Yahiro! We have the same motive for coming here!” “Huh?” Yahiro gaped. Kuon beamed at him. “You doing anything after this? Got any plans?” “Nothing until I go back to where I’m staying.” “Uh-huh. Got a curfew, then? Well, common sense says you should be fine until eight o’clock, right?” “Uh. I guess,” Yahiro murmured. Kuon clapped his hands. “Then it’s settled! Let’s go!” “Go where?” “Into Ikebukuro. My guess is probably around West Gate Park.” “To do what?” Yahiro asked. He assumed it was probably to try to pick up girls or something. What should I say? I’ve never done anything like that. I don’t want to be the guy who becomes a big bummer to his classmate on the first day of school… I already got myself in enough trouble by choking Tatsugami… Despite Yahiro’s oddly misplaced worries, Kuon’s answer was quite straightforward. “What else would we do? Go searching.” “For what?” “For what?” Kuon repeated. He shrugged, grinned, and gave an enthusiastic thumbs-up to the sky. “Let’s go and find that Headless Rider ourselves!”