Baccano! - Volume 16 - Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

The despairing boy wants to step out into the sky

While the reporter was encountering the killer…

Up on a bridge, a boy gave a small sigh.

The Brooklyn Bridge was one of New York’s most prominent landmarks. It was over a mile long in total, and for a time, it was said to be the longest bridge in the world.

It had two levels, with a path for pedestrians and bicycles covering the wide car lanes like a roof. Although cover wasn’t exactly accurate, since the walkway was far narrower than the road, and a framework of iron beams branched away from it on either side.

The bridge itself was suspended by steel wires, and it had long been one of New York’s beloved, iconic sights. It even boasted a view of the Statue of Liberty.

On top of that bridge stood a boy who believed the world didn’t love him. He had sighed a moment earlier, but in the steady downpour, none of the pedestrians crossing the bridge registered his presence.

After all, the spot where he was standing was a place people normally never ventured to.

To get here, he had climbed across the railing, over the top of the iron beams that served as a roof, toward the edge of the bridge—

In short, he was at the edge of the span, holding on to the wires, looking down over the side.

There was solid ground under the bridge until it crossed the river. Even so, it was easily higher than the brick apartment buildings, and the cars that drove past a little ways away seemed like toys.

The boy just gazed down from his perch.

He couldn’t have been older than fourteen. There was still something childlike about his features, but he had dark circles under his eyes, and even with a magnificent view right in front of him beyond the curtain of rain, his gaze stayed focused on the ground.

In a word, he was planning to die.

If he jumped from this height, it would end his life. The boy was sure of it.

Over the water, it might have been different, but there was hard ground below him here. The roof of one of the apartment buildings below him might already have been enough, so jumping from here would be an even safer bet… Or so his vague thought process went.

He might not die instantly, but there wasn’t much foot traffic down there. The noise of the rain would probably drown out his groans.

That would mean a painful death, but he’d braced himself for that, too.

He’d fling himself into space. That was all.

He’d step off the edge. Nothing more.

He’d let go of the wires behind him. Even that might do it.

What would it feel like, falling into the sky? Up till now, the tallest thing the boy had jumped from had been a tree that grew in his neighborhood. Even then, he’d banged himself up royally and hurt all over. If he jumped from here, he might not have time to feel pain at all.

As that thought crossed the boy’s mind, the memory of climbing that tree surfaced along with it, and the blank mask of his face twisted very slightly.

The emotion wasn’t sorrow as much as vague frustration.

Possibly because crying would have hurt, the boy bit his lip, toughing it out, and finally began to focus on the ground.

How long have I been standing here? he thought.

It had been quite a few minutes since he’d climbed over the bridge’s railing, but nobody had noticed him. Either that, or they hadn’t paid much attention. Even after he’d fallen, how many people would spare a glance for his death?

The Depression had led to a constant stream of suicides. And his death wouldn’t even be a clear suicide or accident; it was doubtful whether it would even get a mention in the papers.

I’m going to disappear.

Oh, I see. I’m not dying. I’m disappearing.

No one would grieve his death. He had no friends. No family.

For a moment, he thought, If I’m just disappearing, it doesn’t really matter whether I live or die, does it? But then he decided that was probably a coward’s excuse.

On the other hand, suicide didn’t seem especially courageous. From another perspective, what he was preparing to do now might have been considered a cowardly attempt to run away.

Well, then it doesn’t matter either way.

He’d be dead. There was no point in caring what people thought of him now.

He peered at the ground intently.

Feels like I can see each individual blade of grass down there.

The sensation of becoming one with the ground began to take hold of him. As if the scene below was drawing him in.

And very soon, it would.

All the sounds around him disappeared; he felt utterly alone in his own separate world.

Yes. I’m alone.

I’ll finally, truly be alone.

Then, just as he was about to fall to the earth and join it forever—

“Hi there.”

—abruptly, brazenly, a guest appeared in his world of one.

“What are you doing out here? I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I better tell you this since the stakes are so high… Uh, that’s dangerous. Standing there, I mean.”

The voice didn’t so much step into his world as kick down the door.

It sounded unusually close, and at first, the boy thought he might have been hearing things.

However, when he turned to look—he saw that it hadn’t been an illusion.

Right next to him…

There was a man standing just a few feet away on the edge of the bridge, without an umbrella.

“If you fall, you’ll almost definitely die. Can’t say for sure; maybe you’re built like Popeye or Tarzan. But even then, I bet it’ll hurt like the dickens. So, um, I’m not sure what’s the best way to put this…but I think you probably shouldn’t. Don’t you?”

The voice was so carefree that he hadn’t processed the intention at first, but apparently the man was trying to stop him.

When the boy realized this, for a moment his mind went completely blank, but then—he quickly pulled himself together and told the man off.

“S-stay back!”

“Stay back? I was out here first, you know.”

“?!”

The man’s claim rattled the boy considerably.

He was pretty sure he’d been alone when he came out here, but…was it possible he was wrong about the people around him not noticing him? Had he simply not been paying attention to them?

“No, that’s… You’re lying.”

At that, the man gave a breezy smile and nodded. “Yep, you caught me. I actually just got here.”

“……”

That was just too much, and for a little while, the boy’s mouth opened and shut uselessly.

The man grinned at him. “What’d you think of my joke?” He cocked his head, like a mischievous kid.

“Wh-who are you?”

“Who am I? I’m just a passing… Hmm. What would be a witty answer, under the circumstances? A passing Don Juan, maybe? What do you think?”

The boy eyed the man, unsure whether he should be angry.

He was dressed in the modern style for a young man, and nothing about his outfit was particularly remarkable. The man was probably five or ten years older than the boy, and his face was extremely normal, neither handsome nor unsightly. However, there was one distinctive thing about it.

He was smiling.

He was on the edge of a bridge, same as the boy. One wrong step, and he’d die as well.

Even so, he was smiling.

What…is with this guy?

For a little while, the boy blinked at the terribly abrupt anomaly that had materialized in front of him. But he had to reply somehow. He groped for words, then said the ones that finally came to him.

“…It’s not safe over there.”

“Now that you mention it, you’re right. Well, well,” he murmured in a self-deprecating way. Then, without letting that smile slip, his voice took on a slightly more serious edge. “So then what are you doing here?”

“……”

“I suppose this could be an extra-special seat with a great view, technically, but I’ve lived a long time, and from my well of experience, I’d say—you’re about to kill yourself. Am I right?”

“…You are.” The boy was taken aback, but he answered quietly. Seriously, what is with this guy?

Even as a rather curious sensation came over him, the boy kept speaking indifferently. He’d already taken a slight interest in the man, for better or worse, and that might have been what kept him from simply ignoring him and jumping.

“Just so you know, trying to stop me is a waste of time.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t plan to change my mind about dying.”

Although he hadn’t noticed before, the sound of the rain was weaker than it had been a few moments earlier, and they were able to converse with surprising clarity. He decided to go along with the conversation the man was trying to have; maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have one last chat with someone.

But the smiling man’s response wasn’t quite what the boy had expected.

“I see. Still, that doesn’t necessarily make it a waste.”

“Huh…?”

“I may not succeed in stopping you, but it would still give me the experience of trying, and it might come in handy the next time I talk to someone who’s about to kill themselves. Or—this isn’t how I see it, mind—I’d imagine some people might feel a little better about themselves trying to stop someone attempting suicide, even if they fail. For the people who don’t take it that way and get depressed, well, it’s still life experience. And you know, I don’t think you need to worry about whether I’m wasting my time if you’re about to die, do you?”

The smiling man was holding the wires behind him and leaning out over the edge, bouncing back and forth. If his hands slipped, he’d plunge headfirst toward the ground before he knew what was happening. What was he thinking?

As the boy gazed at him dubiously, the man abruptly stopped moving.

“That said, I haven’t decided whether to try to stop you yet,” he remarked briefly.

“Huh…?”

“Oh, no, it’s quite simple; I’m just wondering… I won’t, uh, ask you why you’re trying to die, but…”

“‘But’?”

What a weird guy. Wouldn’t that be the most important question to ask? Not that I want him to ask, so…I guess it doesn’t matter.

Just as he had that thought, the man quietly finished his sentence.

“Will dying make you happy?”

“……”

If someone who’d come to stop him from killing himself had said that, the boy would have scoffed and silently retorted, That line would never work on someone who’s made up his mind.

Even so—the boy couldn’t think that.

After all, the smile accompanying the question had been so pure. There was no sarcasm in it or anything similar. It was the innocent expression of a child.

Beneath the question was not an admonition but genuine hope. He might as well have been a young child asking, Will Santa Claus really come if I’m good?!

“Tell me, what sort of happiness will it be? Is it the usual? Do you think you’ll go to heaven when you die? No, I suppose that doesn’t follow. Lots of religions are against suicides. Or is it that you just can’t wait to become a perfect void?”

The man kept blabbing away with his irresponsible questions, and the boy finally snapped at him a little.

“Of course not… There’s no way.”

“Huh?”

“Somebody like me could never…die…and end up happy.”

At that, the smiling man nodded once in understanding, then matter-of-factly replied. “Got it. In that case, I will try to stop you from dying.”

“I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about. Just buzz off, would you?”

“If leaving you alone would make you happy, then I’d gladly do it, but…”

The man still had that smile on his face.

“…Are you some sort of religious missionary?” the boy muttered with disgust. “Or are you on dope?”

“That’s incredibly rude to religious people, don’t you think?”

“Why would you stop a loser like me from dying?”

“Pity, mostly.”

“Wha—?!” The boy glared angrily back at him.

Oh, “pity,” huh? So this is just because he feels sorry for me?!

A violent urge welled up within him to at least cuss this guy out thoroughly before he died, but—

—the man crushed that idea. “I know it sounds like I’m preaching, but I think whoever made the roads and parks down below did it to make somebody else smile. Maybe they wanted to make children smile, say, or maybe they wanted to earn money so that they and their families could smile. If you got those all bloody without even a good reason, I’d feel bad for them.”

“Huh…?”

When he said pity…he didn’t mean for me?

“Plus, what if somebody happens to be down there, and you hit them? If that person gets hurt or killed along with you, and you’re dead, who are their surviving relations supposed to get mad at? Although, I doubt you’re thinking about anyone left behind anyway.”

“……”

Realizing the boy had gone silent, the man tilted his head, looking mystified, though he still wore a grin.

“Huh? What’s the matter? You look dazed.”

“…Shut up.”

“Aha. You thought I was feeling bad for you, didn’t you? Or did you want me to feel more for you than for them?”

“…—!”

He’d hit the nail on the head.

The man’s remark had been far too accurate, and the fact that he’d thought such a foolish, embarrassing thing plunged the boy into self-loathing as rage bubbled up.

“You goddamn… What the hell is wrong with you?! Why…?! Screw you! I hope you fall!” the boy screamed with tears in his eyes.

The man’s smile softened, growing even happier. “There, now you’re talking like a kid.” Looking back at the scene below, he went on in a practical way. “Well, I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep this from you… You probably haven’t jumped off anything this high before, but it hurts. From this distance, I don’t think you’d manage to pass out before you hit the ground. If you go headfirst, you should die on impact, but it’s not easy to change position in midair. They say you’d naturally fall headfirst anyway ’cause of the weight of your brain, but I dunno if that’s true.”

What’s this guy trying to do here? Does he want to stop me or not?

Dammit, he’s getting in the way. Because of a guy like this, a guy like him, I almost don’t…

His concentration broken, the boy’s state of mind was returning to normal, and when he looked down again, a thrill of tension ran through him from head to toe.

Up until a moment ago, he thought he’d been ready to die. His heart had already shut down, and he’d felt dead already.

But now, when he looked at the ground below during this conversation—

I’m scared.

His knees went weak.

The absent fear of death returned, rushing from his belly up his spine.

To distract himself from that fear, the boy put on a bold front for the man next to him.

“It’s not like you’ve ever jumped, either. How do you even know this stuff?”

He did think it was a rude thing to say to an adult, but he couldn’t seem to care about that anymore. He just wanted to thrash this guy, whoever he was.

His question had been more sarcastic than anything, but—

“I have, too,” the man replied blandly. “I’ve done it a few times, and seriously, I wouldn’t recommend it. I mean, I’m used to it by now, but still.”

“Mister…what are you even talking about?”

This joke had gone way too far.

Anger was about to blaze up in the boy’s heart again, but—

“I know! I’ll give a little test jump right now, so go ahead and watch! You can see how nasty it gets firsthand; it won’t be too late to jump after that… Okay, there’s nobody down there right now.”

“Huh?” By the time he asked that question—it was already too late.

“Hiyah!”

With a goofy-sounding yell, the man let go of the wires and plummeted off the bridge.

“Wha—…?”

Light as a competitive diver, with no hesitation—

—and headfirst.

The fall took longer than the boy had imagined.

And as that vague impression formed in his mind, the man flew apart in a burst of red fireworks below.

Aaah, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!

Why, why?!

I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean that!

The boy hastily scrambled back to the walkway, then dashed all the way to the bridge’s entrance.

Then, taking a significantly longer route than his companion had taken, he ran hell-for-leather to the spot where the man had fallen.

After that blood splatter, he couldn’t possibly still be alive. He couldn’t be, but—the boy kept running anyway.

No, no.

He d… He died, he—he died because of me?

Panting for breath, he reached his destination.

A deserted alley. All he could see there was the man’s corpse, faceup.

“No… No.”

With a murmur like a quiet scream, the boy ran up to the corpse—and realized the blood he’d seen splash up the walls wasn’t there now. Probably washed away by the rain.

The boy checked the man’s body. His arms were still attached, and his eyeballs and brain fluid were still where they belonged. With a flicker of hope, he shook the man.

He was clinging to a possibility that even he thought was ridiculous: the idea that the man might still be alive.

Violent shaking could have the opposite effect on an injured man, but the boy couldn’t think of anything else to do. He kept trying to wake up the tidy corpse.

“Pull yourse… Pull yourself together! Y-you can’t! Don’t die… You can’t die!”

And then—

—the man’s eyes blinked open. He looked at the boy, wearing the same smile as a moment ago.

“Hi there.”

“Waugh?!”

It was just too much—the boy stiffened in shock. Slowly, the man sat up, cracking his neck audibly.

“You’re a good kid, aren’t you? We only just met, and I made you mad. But you still put off your own death and came to help me.”

“Ah…aaaaah!”

“Besides, if you seriously wanted to die, you wouldn’t have bothered to spend that much time talking to me. Yeah, I really do think you should stay alive for a while yet.”

What sort of magic trick had he used?

The boy was too stunned to speak.

Still smiling, the man slowly extended a hand to him in an attempt to set the boy at ease.

“I’m Elmer. Elmer C. Albatross.

“I’m just a smidge immortal. Pleased to meetcha!”