Durarara!!, Vol. 1 (novel) (10 page)

“So now you can die with a clean conscience.”

Everything inside of him crumbled into ruin.

“Wait a sec! I mean, w-wait please! I’ll talk…I’ll tell you everything! Whatever you want to know! I’ll tell you whatever they didn’t say yet! Just please, please, please don’t kill meee!”

“I see. So despite the sinister getup, you’re actually just a salaryman, technically speaking.”

According to the thug, they were hired by a small temp agency to do various utility jobs. But that was just for outward appearances—in fact, that temp agency was part of a larger, different company.

That company was a pharmaceutical producer, recently down on its luck, with headquarters and a lab complex in Ikebukuro.

Kadota grinned happily at the thug’s story. “So a corporation in financial trouble is kidnapping people for human experimentation? And this is happening in a first-world country?”

He sounded skeptical, but in reality, he didn’t doubt the thug’s story. It was hard to imagine him being able to lie at this point, and there were plenty of rumors around Yagiri Pharmaceuticals already.

Kadota told them to let the thug out at a random spot, then started to leave the van.

In a frail voice, the thug called out to his back.

“Who…who are…you people…?”

Kadota stopped and answered without turning back.

“…If I said we were the Dollars, would that ring a bell?”

Once Kadota was out of the car, Shimada called out to him.

“Um, Kadota, when you said the other guy talked…were you lying?”

“You could tell?”

Shimada looked exasperated for a moment, then grinned.

“Look, I just didn’t want to let Yumasaki do his thing. I like those Dengeki Bunko books. It pains me to see them making a mockery of those stories.”

“…Oh. Kinda funny, this is the first time we’ve ever done something like this as the Dollars. I mean, we decided to go ahead and do this for Kaztano’s sake, but if it weren’t for the Dollars, we’d never have met him to begin with…”

Kadota, Shimada, Yumasaki and Karisawa were all members of the same organization.

At first it was just a clique of good friends, but eventually Kadota found that some downright dangerous people like Yumasaki were joining in positions below him. He didn’t know what he’d done wrong to cause this, but now that they were affiliated with him, he needed to keep them under control. As time went on, though, he failed to find any of them jobs, and now everyone aside from Kadota was simply bouncing around between part-time gigs.

They knew some other folks on the wrong side of the law, but as the group didn’t have the backing of any major gangs, they mostly stayed out of trouble—until one day their leader Kadota received an invitation. It simply asked if they wanted to join the Dollars.

No restrictions, no rules, they just had to call themselves Dollars. It was a very weird invitation. Neither side seemed to benefit from this, but the Dollars were making a name for themselves around Ikebukuro and the label seemed prestigious. Kadota himself was not that interested, but the rest of the group was all for it, so he eventually gave in.

It must be my easygoing nature that caused this. Hell, even Shizuo Heiwajima has a regular job.

At first he thought it was just a prank pulled by someone who knew his e-mail address, so he accepted just to play along, but the very next day, his handle name appeared on the Dollars’ home page.

“So what’s the Dollars’ boss saying about this one?”

“No idea.”

“Huh?”

“That’s the trouble. I’ve still never seen the leader of this gang. We’ve got this hierarchy of all the little groups the Dollars have absorbed, but I can’t find whoever sits at the top.”

Kadota couldn’t help but wonder who actually created this bizarre organization. He didn’t like working for someone whose name or face
he did not know, but on the other hand, without a clear boss, he didn’t really feel like he was working for anyone in the first place.

If anyone would set up something like this, it would have to be—

Izaya Orihara.

He used to live in Ikebukuro, and Kadota had met him on several occasions. The man rudely stuck him with the nickname “Dotachin,” and Karisawa still called him that.

With the unexpected appearance of that name in his mind, and the realization that imagining a nonexistent leader didn’t do him a bit of good, Kadota decided to put it all out of his mind.

The true powers in this town were the yakuza, the foreign mafia, and the police. If anything, the Dollars ranked well below them.

No matter how much they captured the imagination, their numbers and power meant nothing in the end—a fleeting illusion in the shifting midst of the city.

And that was exactly why he wanted proof that this illusion really existed.

But Kadota understood.

Only after the illusion vanished would he really know if that’s what the Dollars were.

Several days of high school formalities passed for Mikado, and after the customary health inspection, actual classes were scheduled to begin the following day. At Raira Academy, the opening ceremonies happened on the first day of school, the second was reserved for an introduction to the school’s clubs and activities, and the third was for health inspections and homeroom.

In the midst of the aforementioned post-inspection homeroom, the class decided on who should be their committee representatives.

“I know, let’s go pick up chicks,” Masaomi suggested in the manner of a commercial slogan, smacking his textbook shut.

Masaomi was in Class B, and yet for some reason he was hanging out in Mikado’s Class A. Considering that the majority of students were in uniforms, his personal clothes made him stand out even more.

“What are you doing here?” Mikado finally asked, though he’d noticed Masaomi’s presence minutes earlier. There was no teacher present, so the boy in seat number one was carrying out the proceedings in his place.

“So Mr. Yamazaki and Ms. Nishizaki will be our Beautification Committee members, and Mr. Yagiri and Ms. Asakura will be our Health Committee reps, while Mr. Kuzuhara and Ms. Kanemura are on the Discipline Committee, and for the election monitor…”

It was standard practice for one male and one female student to be chosen for each committee. The proxy leader read aloud each of the selections written on the blackboard, then considered what was left.

“So we’re still missing our class representatives. Any volunteers?”

“Ye—”

Masaomi tried to raise his hand, but Mikado grabbed it and pulled it down.

Class rep. It seems cool, but it might also be a pain in the ass.

What Mikado wanted was an escape from the doldrums. He’d already flown from the familiar sights of his hometown to an exciting new city, and emboldened by the experiences he’d had over the last few days, his desire for thrills was stronger than ever before.

Mikado’s brain, stimulated by the excitement of a new city, couldn’t help but ignore the risks and scream for more.

More chills, more abnormality, more revolution!

Mikado was in such an elated state of mind that he would have fallen for any scams, ripoffs, or cults out to target him. He wouldn’t have thought twice about an invitation from Masaomi to a motorcycle gang meetup.

Despite his unquestioning mind-set, Mikado had enough self-awareness to know that while the special rank of class representative promised new experiences, he also didn’t want to be tied down to too much responsibility.

Maybe it’s best if I just sit back and let this play out…

“…”

One girl raised her hand, her eyes downcast.

It was Anri Sonohara, pale and bespectacled. The beautiful but aloof girl surrounded by an aura that said to stay away.

“Umm, Miss…Anri Sonohara? Let’s put her on the board, then.”

A very disinterested round of applause rose from the class. No one else seemed particularly engaged in the question of who would take what position.

“I’ll let you handle the rest, then,” the temporary leader said, writing Anri’s name on the blackboard and retreating to his seat.

“In that case, is there anyone who wants to be the male class representative?”

Her voice was frail but clear. No one volunteered for the position, and an uneasy silence fell upon the classroom.

What should I do?
Mikado wondered as he gazed in a trance at Anri behind the teacher’s desk. Suddenly, her glance fell upon one of the male students.

Mikado followed her eyes until he saw a particularly tall classmate. He was the second tallest in the class, and Mikado recognized him as the one who’d just been elected to the Health Committee.

Seiji Yagiri. That was the name written on the blackboard beneath the Health Committee heading. Aside from his height, nothing about him seemed out of the ordinary. But there was almost nothing boyish left in his face—if he’d been introduced as three years older, it could have been taken at face value.

But if he was already assigned to a committee, why was the girl named Anri staring at him like that? Mikado began to wonder if she might have a thing for him, when…

Her gaze shifted directly to Mikado’s direction.

Huh?

Behind her glasses, Anri’s facial expression suggested concern. Mikado’s heart leaped a beat.

“I’m a sinful man,” Masaomi muttered jokingly the moment Anri’s eyes shifted away. “She’s totally got the hots for me. She’s feeling anxious about the wild, dangerous night ahead of us.”

It was spoken quietly enough that only Mikado could hear. He decided to shoot back a barb of his own.

“Sorry, can you speak Japanese? This is Japan, after all.”

“Damn! Always with the quick comeback! I never realized the danger in my midst was coming from you, my old friend—but I live for the sake of love and won’t hesitate to kill a pal if I must.”

“No hesitation in the slightest?!”

Upon more levelheaded reflection, she might have been looking at the outsider Masaomi rather than Mikado. That might explain the worry he saw. Which raised the question: What was Masaomi doing in that seat anyway?

That’s when he realized what she was
really
looking at.

The seat Masaomi was occupying belonged to a female student
who hadn’t appeared in any of the last three days, starting from the entrance ceremony. He recalled that Anri had been concerned for that student during that very first day.

Mikado silently raised his hand. He had no idea what was running through Anri’s mind, but if no one else was going to volunteer, it might as well be him.

“Oh…um…”

“It’s Ryuugamine. First name, Mikado. Meaning ‘imperial man,’” Masaomi interjected for some reason. Anri dutifully wrote the name on the blackboard. Several members of the class finally noticed Masaomi’s presence, but no one seemed particularly concerned. No use ruffling any feathers—and nobody really wanted to get involved with an unknown student wearing his own clothes, with bleached brown hair and earrings.

In a way, Mikado’s plain appearance and subdued personality made him fit the role of class rep quite well. No one raised any objections, and the process continued uneventfully.

“Well, that’s all the positions—don’t forget to attend your first committee meetings tomorrow. The times and places are written on the board outside the office,” the new class rep read off the printout on the teacher’s desk, bringing a quiet close to the homeroom period.

“We can go ahead and leave after cleaning up. Let’s get to it.”

In the end, Mikado became a class rep without even standing in front of the class. He started on the cleaning process, feeling slightly unfulfilled. As he mopped the hallway floor, Masaomi teased him, leaning against a window.

“Aha, so that’s what’s going on…”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t think you had it in you. Back in elementary school, you’d cry just because someone made up rumors about you and a childhood friend. And somehow you’ve turned into an aggressive hunter on the prowl, looking for love!”

“Oh, that. Whatever,” Mikado muttered, brushing off his friend’s nonsense. “Speaking of which, did you join anything?”

“Yep, the Discipline Committee.”

Mikado tried to imagine his friend being in charge of student behavior. He summed up his thoughts with one word. “Yikes…”

“What do you mean, yikes? Hey, I actually wanted to be class rep, but we needed a ferocious fifteen-man rock-paper-scissors tournament to decide that slot, and I was tragically eliminated.”

“Fifteen volunteers?! In a rock-paper-scissors competition?! Geez, your class was way more into it!” Mikado blurted, openly astonished. Masaomi grinned in satisfaction.

“But there were only six volunteers for Discipline. I dunno about that guy from your class, though; he looks like a real stickler for discipline. I’m hoping to use my position on the inside to tear down the system from within.”

“…What are you talking about?”

“Whatever. Now that I’m on the Discipline Committee, there are no heavy firearms coming onto this campus!”

“But small firearms are okay…?” Mikado murmured, having regained his cool head.

Masaomi stomped his leg with cartoonish disappointment. He looked out the window for a few moments, then turned back with a sense of purpose.

“I know, let’s go pick up chicks!” Masaomi repeated.

“Seriously, are you okay?”

Mikado finished up his cleaning assignment, feeling concern for the old friend who was getting more and more unhinged by the day. He placed the mop in a large storage locker and picked up his bag, walking off with Masaomi—when he noticed Anri Sonohara at the entrance of the building with the tall shadow of Seiji Yagiri. Anri was asking him something, her face dead serious, while Seiji looked annoyed.

“—Then
so it’s
really
seen her?”

“I told you, I haven’t. She just stopped coming.”

Anri’s words were too quiet to make out accurately, but Seiji’s irritated answer was plenty clear. He turned in the direction of the two boys, clearly hoping to brush Anri off. He was in charge of cleaning the entranceway, so his bag was probably still in the classroom.

Anri watched him retreat, then noticed Mikado and Masaomi staring at her. She hastily walked out of the door.

“Whoa, whoa, no need to be putting on a show with this quarrel on the third day of school, young lovers,” Masaomi said. Mikado turned to see that he was already blocking Seiji’s path. The combination of his words and appearance made Masaomi the perfect villain for this scene.

“…What do you want? That wasn’t what you think it is.”

“Umm, you’re Yagiri, right? I’m in the same class as you. Mikado Ryuugamine.”

“Yeah…I remember you. Hard to forget a name like that,” Seiji said, his tension easing as he recognized his class representative. Mikado had stepped in between the two to prevent anything from erupting, but Masaomi pushed him aside to get closer.

“Hey…Kida!”

“You’re pretty fit, dude. Let’s go pick up chicks!”

“Huhhh?” both Mikado and Seiji interjected.

“Kida, what in the world are you talking about?”

“It always helps to have one really tall guy in the group when you go cruising! If it were just you and me, it’d be a zero-sum game—every positive effect of my appearance would be canceled out by the negative effect of yours.”

“That’s mean! Why don’t you just invite someone from your class?”

“You idiot, if I did that, I’d have like twenty boys and girls coming along!”

Mikado was about to ask why girls would be tagging along for a pickup run when Seiji interrupted. He was no longer irritated the way he was earlier, though he didn’t seem to be in a mood to listen to the other two bicker, either.

“Sorry, but I’ve already got a girlfriend.”

That ought to have been the clincher, but Masaomi was not to be deterred.

“As if that matters!”

“Uh, yes it does!” Mikado interjected, but Masaomi paid him no attention.

“I don’t care about the presence or absence of any girlfriend—just talking to another girl doesn’t make her your girlfriend, so there’s no issue of cheating whatsoever!”