This takes place during Tatarigoroshi-hen, if you want to assume Irie's death during this arc really was suicide. I own nothing.
It's always the same way, the same death in the worlds where he dies, be it of his own will or with the cold muzzle of a gun pressed to the back of his neck or whether he doesn't even know it at all. Dozens of sleeping pills chopped up into dust and dumped into a glass of water. The glass is drained and he is dead within the hour, slumped over in his chair, face pale.
He's done this a hundred, maybe a thousand times before, even if he doesn't remember. When it happens again, Irie wonders why the grounding of the pills feels so agonizingly familiar, but shrugs it off as déjà-vu and keeps working. There's nothing more to be done.
In the end, no one was ever quite able to figure out exactly who and what Irie was, which is probably a good thing. Certainly a good thing that no one among Hinamizawa was ever able to see that gleam in his eye from time to time. After all, who could have ever guessed that the painfully young-looking doctor who coached the local baseball team had been sent by a secret organization to research a little-known, little-understood disease? More importantly, who could have guessed at the full horror of what he had inflicted on others in the past, for the sake of knowledge?
Irie frowns as he looks at the powdered soporifics scattered over a piece of paper to keep it from spilling. Will this be enough? He shakes doubt from his mind. Enough pills have been pulverized to kill a horse; it will be more than enough for him.
As ever, Irie has a few things working in his favor. For one, he does admittedly have a perverse and inappropriate sense of humor and an equally inappropriate and frankly horrid sense of timing as regards to the execution of said humor. Along with that there's always the raging maid fetish and the fact that he doesn't care who's wearing the stockings and the skimpy, frilly little dress so long as she's female and nubile. Satoko's insanely cute to start with, and in a maid's dress, well…
Who would ever suspect a man like that to be what he is?
Satoko-chan… Irie sighs heavily as he funnels the paper and lets the ground pills slip into the glass of water he's prepared, and starts to churn the water with a spoon. It will take a while to get the powder to properly dissolve, but he's prepared to wait. He'll have all the time in the world after this is done; he can afford to be patient.
Beneath the appearance of showing an unhealthy liking for Satoko (more convenience than authenticity) there is only one more precaution to make sure no one ever figures out that Irie is anything other than a small town doctor. It's not entirely truthful or untruthful—the maid fetish strikes again—just a mask. The difference though is that the mask is to throw off Takano, not the village, because Takano's watching far more closely than the general population of Hinamizawa, and one slip up is the end of him and more importantly of Satoko as well.
Beneath what he puts up to keep Takano from suspicion, Irie really does adore that little girl. Even when she's laying traps or when Irie discovered one day while giving her an injection that she had filed away at her canine teeth to make them sharper.
("I think you could stand for some caution in future." Satoko sticks her tongue out as Irie pokes the scab on her knee for emphasis and, with her mouth open Irie notices how much sharper her canines are than they were the last time he had occasion to see them.
"Satoko-chan…" Irie gapes at her, aghast. "Have you filed your teeth?"
To this Satoko only grins hugely and, standing in the background by the window, Rika sighs long-sufferingly, shaking her head.)
She had smiled then, a big wide grin, and for all the world for a moment Satoko had looked like nothing more or less than a normal, happy child, and maybe, living with her best friend Rika in the sort of arrangement that must have smacked of a permanent sleepover, she was a happy girl, even if she wasn't a normal one.
Smile. That's all Irie has ever wanted Satoko to do. Her and Satoshi both, to smile, and be happy for once in their lives, no angry, buzzing shadow hanging over them, growing larger with every day. Life gave them cruel lots and little to smile about, but couldn't they have just been happy? Couldn't fate, or God, or whoever was in charge up there just have left them alone for a little bit?
The answer Irie got was the same as it always was: No.
Satoko contracted Hinamizawa Syndrome at terminal levels and under the influence of it pushed her parents off a cliff. After making a miraculous if limited recovery no one had long to savor the victory. The deaths of Satoko and Satoshi's mother and stepfather drew their aunt and uncle to Hinamizawa. The next time Irie saw Satoshi and Satoko they were covered in bruises and he couldn't say a word about it, as much as he wanted to. Satoshi took matters into his own hands and killed his aunt then contracted Hinamizawa Syndrome the same as Satoko, only this time there would be no miracles for Satoshi. And now, just a year later, Satoko's monster of an uncle has come back to Hinamizawa and the old patterns have been re-established.
It's all come to nothing and his hands are tied, useless.
The water's murky, the sign that the ground pills have been fully absorbed into the water. Irie nurses the glass in his hands and for the first time, he hesitates, staring down into the cloudy depths of the water with a morose expression on his face.
Once upon a time, after Satoshi had been admitted to the hospital and Houjou Teppei deserted Hinamizawa, Irie cherished the desire to adopt Satoko. At the very least if Teppei ever decided to show his face in Hinamizawa again, he wouldn't be able to trap Satoko. While Satoko seemed just fine living with Rika, Irie knew it had to be a strain on whatever funds Rika had at her disposal. And on a personal level, Irie was intent enough on ensuring Satoko's well-being that he didn't care if it drew Takano's attention.
But nothing. Too young and unmarried, with the long, unpredictable hours of a doctor, Irie didn't make the cut and wasn't considered responsible enough to adopt. Afterwards, Irie reflected that it probably was a good idea he hadn't asked Satoko what she thought of the idea; it was cruel to put something like that before a child only to take it away again. And as a result, when Teppei came back to Hinamizawa, Irie could do nothing but watch as Satoko withered away, again.
When someone needs him, he's completely useless. Irie's come to the point that he can't ignore that anymore, can't face it anymore.
Up until now, Irie lived by the philosophy "If it's gotten as bad as it can get, then it can only get better". That's how he got past his father's deterioration and his parents' deaths; it was the only thing he could tell himself when he was lying awake in bed and couldn't sleep, the only thing he could tell himself as he tried to convince his mother that his father had been ill and she only shook her head and refused to believe him. He was the eternal optimist, still smiling even when everything was burning around him.
Things aren't going to get better, not this time.
Satoshi is still in an induced coma and though there is some slight sign of improvement in his brain waves, Irie can't risk bringing him out of the coma; his suffering would be tremendous and would only grow worse.
The only reason Irie was able to keep Satoko from being dissected when she contracted Hinamizawa Syndrome was because of Rika's timely intervention. She still relapses if she misses even a single injection. Houjou Teppei, a man Irie hates as much as any decent human being, has returned to Hinamizawa and Satoko is a pale shadow of herself. It will only be a matter of time before Teppei kills her in anger and all he can do is watch, clenching his teeth as her arms grow blacker, her face paler and her eyes duller. It's like watching a leech attach itself to her side and siphon away all her vitality.
She's going to die eventually, and if Irie can't even save one little girl, then what's the point anymore?
Irie tips the glass up to his lips and starts to drink. The water is chalky and tastes foul, but he doesn't flinch.
Funny. Up until then, he'd been telling himself that he needed to be around to continue caring for Satoshi, and to protect Satoko if worst came to worst. Irie can remember the promise he made to himself and Satoshi's last words before sedatives knocked him unconscious. Who look after them, if not me? He's failed them both so completely that he can't honestly say that he was ever anything but completely ineffective, but still Irie told himself that he would protect them both.
The glass is empty. With a hand clumsy and heavy as lead, Irie sets the glass down on the table and his arm falls limp at his side immediately afterwards. A deep, thick lethargy seeps over him. It's becoming more and more difficult to keep his eyes open.
So this is what dying feels like? I wonder if it went so smoothly for my parents.
On the edge of what lies beyond, none of it seems to matter anymore. Whatever Keiichi may think, there's nothing anyone can do for Satoko anymore that won't make things worse for her in the long run. When Irie gets where he's going he can finally resolve things between his parents or at least try to. Satoko will join him soon enough, at the rate things are going.
Still…
But what about her? What about Satoko-chan? The thought comes too late. Irie can neither stand nor find the energy to open his mouth and shout for help. There are others just on the other side of the door, but the distance is too far and there's no time left.
Oh well. Resigning himself to the long sleep, the only real sleep Irie has ever known, he can console himself with one thing.
When Satoko joins him, he can say how sorry he is.
For everything.
(I just wanted to see her smile. He still feels like he's done this before.)