"What...? Are you sure?"

Rain poured down on the streets of Ikebukuro in sheets. It clattered against the metal overhang at the bus stop and battered the umbrellas of passersby. Rio clutched her phone to her ear, straining to filter out the city noise. They had planned to stop by that eccentric Russian Sushi shop, but apparently her "friend" suddenly had other engagements to attend to. It always seemed like that.

"Well...if it can't be helped... I guess we'll go some other day."

But she resisted the thought of returning home. School, at least, was a repose from the undercurrent of fabricated easiness over there. It wasn't as if her house was inviting now that she decided she would rather live than die.

And besides, it had taken a completely surreal experience with the Headless Rider, of all people, to make her realize that. You didn't talk those kinds of things. They were akin to an experience with God: a personal revelation, of sorts. Moreover, only a certain kind of person would believe her. She didn't want to get involved with those people anymore—not to spite the jerk who mocked her, and not to ruin the life that someone had apparently deemed fit to save.

She did, on occasion, wonder what kind of person the Headless Rider actually was. More than a rumor for certain, but to her, little else but a mute woman who did odd jobs on a black motorcycle without lights or an engine. There was something to be said about her appearance; she had a kind of fetishistic appeal in that black, skintight suit and cutesy, cat-eared helmet. Generally she would ride too fast for anyone to get a good look at her, but Rio had been close enough to realize that this person wasn't quite a ghost...but wasn't quite human, either.

She thought of Spiderman, idly, about the webs that he spun out of his suit and the distinct red-and-blue suit he wore, about the way he saved screaming women from falling out of skyscrapers on the streets of New York and kept his identity a secret. She wondered why almost this had happened to her. She didn't want to be thought of as a victim—an idiot, maybe, but who wasn't—and besides, the Headless Rider was a stranger on a bike, not a superhero. No one talked about her feats of derring-do.

She couldn't shake the thoughts out of her head, though. That entire night wasn't quite a dream since she still saw the Headless Rider zoom past on occasion, and even that smirking bastard from time to time, but it didn't really mean anything else, either. She was saved by one of Ikebukuro's eccentrics, and of all things by herself. She wrestled with the decision to call it either lucky or pathetic.

And that was when the bus arrived.

One thought led to another, and soon she was thinking about what she'd order at Russian Sushi. She had never been there before, though she knew the owner was a huge black man that always scared people away from the shop. According to rumor, it had a tendency to lure people as unusual as the man himself in. Birds of a feather, she guessed.

As the bus came to a halt, she ran from the corner to the shop, cursing her lack of an umbrella and the slickness of the sidewalk beneath her feet. The rain would ruin her appetite. She ignored the huge guy on her way in and seated herself at a table.

It took her a moment to realize who was sitting behind her. She turned around again, and saw a yellow, cat-eared helmet on the other side of the backrest. Then she turned away, slowly this time, trying to avoid drawing the other person's attention.

Then the Headless Rider stood up with a jolt, shaking the table, and was about to step out when she noticed Rio.

Rio froze, out of shock or embarrassment or something like that. The Headless Rider sat in the seat adjacent to her, typed something into her PDA, and showed it to her.

Bastard stood me up.

"Um..." Rio sat awkwardly in her seat.

I've been waiting her for two hours, she typed angrily. I'm sure he got absorbed in whatever he was doing again. I never know what he's up to.

"I know you're—"

She shoved the PDA at her. He's such an airhead. Sometimes I question the sense in living with him.

The Rider typed another message into her PDA before Rio could even open her mouth again. I should stop, shouldn't I?

Rio nodded. The Rider dropped her PDA onto the table and rested her helmet on her hand, tapping the fingers of her free hand against the surface of the table. Rio's hair was dripping wet.

"You're probably angry at him," Rio started uncertainly, "but, even though you saved my life, that doesn't give you an excuse to vent about it to me."

I know. That was stupid.

"If you're so tired of waiting, shouldn't you leave?"

I don't have anywhere to go right now.

Rio fidgeted. Her romanticized image of the Headless Rider was quickly fading into something much more...mundane. "Do you know when the chef will come back in and serve his customers?"

Yes, he'll come in to check up on them.

"Uh... Do you eat here often?"

She shook her head. Rarely.

Rio scoured her mind for topics, but it came up blank. She desperately hoped the Rider would stand up and leave eventually. She wouldn't be able to eat in front of her, with that black visor following her every move. But it would be rude to ask her to leave. She hadn't even thanked her yet, if that was even the proper thing to do.

"Um..." Rio stared at the table. "Thanks. For saving me, I mean."

I'm not fond of senseless deaths. She paused, and then typed into her device again. Instead of acting grateful, you should try to improve yourself. I'm not a hero.

Her message was neither humble nor encouraging, and of course there was no tone behind it. But Rio's burning curiosity began to eat away at her diffidence. Maybe it had been easy for the Rider to construct that bizarre web of black matter and save Rio's life, but she wondered what had pushed her to actually do it. Most people would be too afraid to attempt something like that, even if they could.

Speaking of which, the Headless Rider had a boyfriend?

"Do you really not have a head?"

Well, just as there were people who would believe her if she told them the Headless Rider saved her life, there must have been people romantically interested in headless women. Ikebukuro was full of such oddities. And the Headless Rider had to have a life, too.

Do you think it's true?

"It wouldn't be too much of a stretch."

The Rider pushed her visor up. Nothing.

The moment was decidedly anticlimactic. "Yeah. I figured."

You look calm.

"I don't expect the same person who saved my life to harm me," Rio explained. "But if you saved people more often, you'd draw attention. I guess you don't want any more of that."

I don't care. That's not why I'm here.

Rio decided she wouldn't ask. But she did have to know, "What's your name? Um, I'm Rio Kamichika."

The Rider paused, and then typed into her PDA again.

"Celty...Sturluson?" Something like that. It was a weird name, almost a fake name, so foreign it seemed made-up. She didn't care if it was an alias; at least she had a name now. "I'm guessing you're not from around here."

I am not.

"And you're not human, either."

She shook her head.

Rio's mind was just bursting with questions. What kind of person saved her life? Did she even do it...for her, or just to spite that man, or because of some past failure, like all those manga protagonists? Celty was just bizarre enough to qualify as one, only Rio happened to be talking to her in person.

Her body language said that she was bored, tired, frustrated. She never sat up straight; she slouched as if she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. Every once in a while she would turn her head this way or that way, at the endlessly pouring rain, at the empty counter, the man outside, or behind Rio, but never quite at her. Rio realized that Celty didn't actually have eyes, but for some reason, that was what she thought.

She would probably never get used to this, anyway. She had been asked not to praise her or grovel at her feet; Celty was here for reasons other than goodwill. People did that sometimes, Rio supposed.

"Well, then... When you saved me..."

Celty looked at her.

"Did you feel any better about yourself?"

Her headless savior thought about it. Then she answered, No. Then she thought again. But I saved your life twice, and the second time was out of my own volition. Should I have let you die?

Rio suddenly felt disgusted. She realized what a cruel irony it was to try to off herself when someone had saved her from making foolish decision after foolish decision.

"You're cruel," Rio grumbled. "I wasn't worth your time to save."

So I should have let you die, then.

"Yes. I'm no good. I'm going to keep on making stupid choices, and you're not going to be there to save me a third time."

Grow a spine. That's the only way you're going to stop yourself from doing those things.

"So I'm a coward," Rio said. "Why bother, then?"

So maybe then you'll stop someone else from making the same mistake. You're not the only one who's thought about it.

"I can't do that."

Your attitude is the only thing stopping you.

Rio smiled a bit. "Are you sure you're not a hero?"
You're starting to make me sound like one.

"I think it suits you."

Trust me when I say it doesn't.

"No need to be shy."

Celty clutched her helmet in frustration. I'd rather stay an oddity. She stared at her PDA, and then typed in, Forget it ever happened.

"You're starting to contradict yourself."

Celty stared at her. Fine, she typed. I'm your hero. She looked at her PDA. Satisfied?

Rio smiled. "Maybe." She cocked her head. "It's all right. I haven't told anyone about it yet."

You're having fun with this, aren't you?

"Well...I am now. I hadn't expected you to be so..."

So normal?

"Well, yeah." Rio nodded. "I didn't really have that kind of image of you."

Don't you read comic books? Even superheroes have problems.

Rio shrugged. "I guess." She stared at the entrance. "I don't think he's going to come in anytime soon..." She stood up and bowed. "It was nice to meet you, Sturluson-san. Um, I should be going now, though. Excuse me."

Celty waved goodbye as Rio walked out. The rain had started to slow now, and the man at the front door still hadn't noticed her.

She took the bus home, greeted her parents, and went up to her room feeling strangely refreshed. Dinner would be ready soon, and for once she felt like eating it.


"Ah, Celty, I'm sorry I was so late! The operation took a lot longer than I expected... Huh?" As Shinra shook the water from his umbrella and pulled his sodden coat off, he noticed Celty staring idly at her PDA. "Celty?"

She looked at him from the couch. It's fine. I had a nice conversation with someone else there.

Shinra gaped as he walked up to her. "No way! Don't tell me it was another ma—" She jabbed him in the stomach. "Then...who...was it?" he choked.

An acquaintance.

"Like, what kind?"

Celty tilted her head and tapped the bottom of her helmet, as if in thought. Just a client.

"Oh." Shinra beamed. "You're really getting the hang of this, aren't you? Making connections is the best way to find jobs!" His eyes betrayed his mistrust, however, and Celty jabbed him again.

"What did I say this time?"

I wouldn't have had to talk to someone else if you had been there, you know!

"I said I'm sorry!" Shinra put his hands together and bowed. "We'll make it up next time, all right? I'll pay!"

You always pay.

"I'll buy you whatever you want!"

That's not the point!


She wasn't a bad person, actually, Rio thought. So as she sat in her room staring at her phone, she wondered maybe if they should have exchanged phone numbers.


Celty really needed to stop befriending all these teenagers. Shinra might get suspicious. All the same, being called a hero secretly excited her. She was rarely praised by anyone other than Shinra, and he had been madly in love with her ever since they had met. This time around it actually felt genuine rather than expected; Shinra's love was acceptable, but strange.

Saving someone's life and seeing her alive again, she had to admit, felt good.


A/N: I don't think I can hide my pairing bias...and there might possibly be another installment; I'll see if anyone actually wants it first, though. But you have to admit, you'd have to feel something after being saved from your own suicide by a headless lady in a leather suit on a motorcycle, right?