Durarara!!, Vol. 4 (novel) by Ryohgo Narita

you’ve got the wrong idea about”
    “moemoemoemoe-moe”
    “moemoe-moe?moe”
    As they droned on and on, their companion finally broke his silence.
    “Please, you two, just stop talking about your moe stuff out in public like this,” Kadota pleaded, sighing and pressing his forehead with his fingers.
    Whether in the warmth of April or the chill of winter, the topic of conversation for those two never changed. If anything did change, it was merely the title of whatever anime or manga they were discussing.
    “Can’t you just get off the topic of 2-D stuff already?”
    “Sure thing.”
    “Tsk.”
    Surprised that they actually obliged him, Kadota was delighted to have some silence. It lasted only a second.
    “By the way, the figures that the sculptor Zetsumu Youen makes have been getting sexier around the waistline lately, don’t you think?”
    “No, it’s the barely raised stomach lines that show off the ribs of his slender characters that are the true moe his style inspires!”
    It was the exact same stuff as before. Kadota bellowed, “I
just
told you to stop talking about that!”
    Yumasaki and Karisawa were taken aback by his anger.
    “What do you mean?! Figures are 3-D!”
    “Not quite, Karisawa! Figures are actually 2.5-D!”
    “…When I’m with you, sometimes I wonder if this is actually Japan at all,” Kadota grumbled, half-resigned. He resumed walking toward his destination: the Tokyu Hands department store.
    When they rounded a corner and the pedestrian traffic wasn’t so thick, he turned back and asked, “It’s tonight, right? You’re gonna take Mikado and whoever around those stores and stuff?”
    “Yeah, that’s right. Wanna come?”
    “Nah, I’d only scare them away.”
    “You think so, Dotachin? If you took your cap off and laid your bangs flat, you’d make a pretty convincing honor student!” Karisawa teased. Kadota ignored her and kept walking—until he saw something unfamiliar.
    “See, we’re just askin’ questions, yeah? Askin’ if you know anything about the Black Rider, yeah?”
    “You girls want money, right? Well, so do we. So don’t hog all of it, yeah?”
    “Why don’t you invest some allowance in us? If we score the ten million yen, we’ll pay you back physically. With interest.”
    “Yeah, and we’re almost the same age as you, so it won’t count as prostitution. Seriously. I’ll even do it for free.”
    A group of men chanting extremely stereotypical taunts had surrounded two teenage girls. Each of the men wore imposing, tough-looking clothes, and one of them was in a full motorcycle-gang uniform with stripes.
    “Awright, I get it. You girls are the Black Rider.”
    “Yeah, that’s it.”
    “That’d be hilarious.”
    “So why don’t you have ten-million-yen worth of fun with us?”
    The content of their taunts and challenges were like a slice from another period in time. It made them seem quite out of place in the big city.
    Kadota watched the men for a bit, then muttered, “I never expected to see such stereotypical street thugs in this day and age.” The trio strode forward, shaking their heads.
    Meanwhile, the men hadn’t noticed their observers. They continued to harass the girls.
    “Actually, if you two hang out in this neighborhood, you must be pretty loaded, huh?”
    “Filthy. Filthy!”
    “C’mon, don’t just clam up. Say something, huh?”
    “Hang on, you guys. Don’t you see they’re scared? Sorry about that. As an apology, why don’t we take you somewhere you want to go? Huh?”
    When one of the thugs started to initiate a weak attempt at a good-cop-bad-cop routine, Kadota decided it was time to open his mouth.

    Several hours later, in front of Tokyu Hands
    The few days surrounding Raira Academy’s extended break were half days that ended at noon. It was meant to smooth out the transitionbetween vacation and study, but the students just thought,
I get to hang out all afternoon, yay
, which was, in a way, the point.
    When the