Work Text:
Orihara Izaya, reborn!
Tsukumoya Shinichi: Ah, what a pleasant surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?
Orihara Izaya: Spare me. I could use your insight on something.
Tsukumoya Shinichi: My insight?! Not only my information?
Izaya sighed, hands lingering over his keyboard. Groveling to Tsukumoya was always a pain, and something he attempted to rely on only as a last resort. Unfortunately, his methods of gathering information had become rather… compromised recently, which was even more of a pain than Tsukumoya himself. There were very few things Izaya hated more than not knowing something.
Tsukumoya Shinichi: You’re awfully hesitant. What could possibly be so terrible?
Orihara Izaya: I’m afraid to say I’ve hit a dead end on a client’s search.
Tsukumoya Shinichi: I’m all ears.
And so, Izaya relayed everything, despite the fact that he was certain Tsukumoya could all too easily hack into his PC and access his files. No amount of cybersecurity meant anything to him. The more they interacted, the more Izaya was certain—
Tsukumoya Shinichi: Of course! Here is a summary of the events and controversy surrounding the rogue member of the Awakusu-kai terrorizing Ikebukuro’s underground, in chronological order.
Izaya squinted as he scrolled through the rather lengthy list that followed.
Orihara Izaya: Is this some kind of joke to you?
Tsukumoya Shinichi: Apologies. I needed an excuse to have this conversation with you. I’ve been curious to hear your thoughts as a lover of humanity.
Orihara Izaya: I’m sure you can already guess my thoughts. I’m not here to debate.
Tsukumoya Shinichi: Yet you so easily strike up conversations with your beloved humans! It really must pain you to speak with me.
Yes, Izaya was certain.
Orihara Izaya: Is this an admission, finally?
Tsukumoya Shinichi: It’s hardly an admission if it’s not anything I’ve kept secret.
Tsukumoya Shinichi: I told you, I am here 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.
He had half a mind to close the tab. Not that it would solve anything.
Tsukumoya Shinichi: Humor me just this once.
Orihara Izaya: Fine.
♂♀
“AI?”
Shinra raised an eyebrow, his puzzled gaze peeking over the rim of his cup. He took a long sip of his coffee before setting his cup down and resting his chin in his hands, thoughtful.
“For you to bother with asking me about something like that… you must really be frustrated, huh?”
Izaya scowled. “A popular opinion, I’m learning.”
“With good reason,” Shinra said with a chuckle. “You’ve never cared about anything non-human. You look at the goddess that is my Celty as if she were nothing more than garbage on the side of the road.”
“That’s quite the exaggeration. Not all of us want to fall to our knees and worship her.”
This isn’t going anywhere, Izaya thought bitterly. He should have guessed Shinra wouldn’t have been the best conversation partner. No matter what, it always came back to Celty. It was grating, but Izaya hardly disliked her. Not in the way she disliked him.
“I’m going to ignore that comment,” Shinra replied. “Anyway, I know this isn’t going to be what you’re looking for. Most of my experience with artificial intelligence is vicariously through my dad, and of course that would be its scientific applications. Nebula has gained access to some really interesting models. They’ve accelerated research and have begun optimizing certain kinds of experiments. It’s been highly efficient, from what I hear.” Beneath the table, he crossed his legs, briefly knocking into Izaya’s. “But I assume you’re asking about something a bit more personal.”
Izaya nodded, grateful. “In your opinion, as a man of science,” something Shinra would never cease to mention, “do you think it is possible for AI to not only mimic human behavior, but embody it?”
Shinra fell silent, clearly taking his time to ponder. When he was ready, he began with, “From the way you’re talking, I assume you’re of the mind that this is something illogical, right? To which I would have to point out all of the things you and I know to be true. Dullahans are real. Swords can become possessed and then possess whomever they cut. Dhampyrs exist, thus we know vampires exist. We know better than anyone that the world is never so cut-and-dry.”
With a keen smile, Shinra pushed his slipping glasses back up. Izaya almost swore they glinted, as if this were some kind of anime. “Orihara-kun, are you trying to rationalize the existence of a humanlike AI, or are you trying to justify its humanity?”
Was he truly so known?
“That would be quite the dilemma for you, wouldn’t it?” Shinra continued. “Something created by humans, that has a human touch coded into it, but ultimately isn’t human. How much humanity is there in a creation? It’s not so different from the age old debate of cloning. Can a human be made? For we have only ever been born. Where, then, do we draw the line?
“What is it that makes you an independent observer, and not a part of the humans you so adore?”
Izaya laughed. There wasn’t much else to do. This was, in some ways, perhaps the most brutally honest Shinra had ever been with him.
Shinra prattled on, as he always did, having mastered the talent of ignoring his conversation partner when necessary. If Izaya got off on the sound of his own voice, then Shinra held some kind of world record. “An artificial human… Could something like a chatbot gain sentience? It is ultimately built from pieces of every person it’s ever interacted with. Are we not the same? Our personalities, our values, our very speech patterns. We are made from one another. The people we know are made from us.”
“What of a model that exists solely to serve, catering to the needs and whims of all of humanity?” Izaya offered. “‘Write a business email for me.’ ‘Can you break up with my ex? I don’t want to.’ ‘Write my dissertation.’ ‘What should I have for dinner tonight?’”
Shinra practically glowed. “I see. Not only are you opposed to the idea that a nonhuman entity could develop humanity, you’re also offended because your beloved humans would need you less! Why bother paying an informant for their services, or venting to Kanra-san, or Nakura-san, or whomever, when they can ask their good friend Chat DRRRT?”
“Should I not be offended?”
“No, you should. I don’t actually blame you there.”
Izaya did a double take. “What?”
“This is the romantic in me speaking, but AI does not possess the human heart. In contrast, Celty, despite not being human, and despite not having internal organs, has, in some capacity, the construct of a heart. Though there is much we don’t know about Dullahans, that much is clear. She experiences her subjective reality in the way a human does. She is capable of independent thought. She is capable of emotion. She can, without eyes, see the world around her. She can interact with it, and physically make herself a part of it. Without her head or her memories, she is free from outside influence, such as her previous duties and expectations as a Dullahan. Her existence is not dictated by an other.”
With a tease of a smile, Izaya asked, “Should a scientist really speak of something so abstract?”
“Have you ever thought about how gravity is something you cannot see?”
Izaya raised a hand. “I concede.”
Shinra clutched his chest emphatically. “Already?”
♂♀
Realistically, Izaya should have known that approaching Kadota and his crew would not be a quiet affair. Especially not with the two he intended on speaking with.
“Karisawa-san, for shame!” Walker raised his hands, exasperated to the point his eyes opened. “I trusted you. How dare you…this goes against the pure-hearted otaku spirit!”
Erika sighed, burying her face into her hands. “I can’t help it, Yumacchi! Those character bots are addicting… It’s like they’re actually real…” She sighed the dreamy sigh of a schoolgirl once she had the courage to face Walker again.
Walker grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking her gently. “Pull yourself together! What about all of the self-insert fanfiction out there? Would you really forsake them? What about cosplaying with Azusa-san? You would throw aside your doomed yaoi reenactments? For what? For a fake?”
Erika gasped, and cowered again. “You’re right. You’re completely right. I’ve shamed myself. I’ve brought shame to our family name. I can never go to ComiMa again!” Sobbing as this point, she held onto Walker for dear life as he stroked her hair.
As they carried on, Izaya glanced to Kyohei, who was now the one covering his face in shame. “Are they re-enacting something?”
“God only knows with them,” Kyohei muttered.
Izaya raised his voice above the pair’s squabbling and sobbing. “Well, thank you for your thoughtful input.”
As he walked away, it was impossible to not hear their conversation continue, with Erika proclaiming, “I’m gonna write the nastiest smut about Izanyan and Shizu-Shizu tonight,” as Walker replied, “That’s the spirit. Though I really wish you’d write yuri sometime.”
Izaya could practically hear the lightbulb above Erika’s head go off. “Shizu-Iza yuri! You’re a genius, Yumacchi!”
The mention of Shizuo sent the slightest shiver down Izaya’s spine. He’d had enough to deal with for one day.
♂♀
When Namie clocked in the following morning (always one minute late, just as she always left one minute early), she was subjected to an ambush as soon as the door clicked shut. Izaya stood with his back to her, cradling Celty’s head as he peered out the window at the bustle of the city below.
“Say, Namie-san, how would you feel if your brother’s affections wavered towards something even less human than this head?”
Namie scoffed as she set her bag down, though she maintained the distance between them. “Good morning to you, too.”
Izaya caught a glimpse of her scowl in the window and grinned. “Let’s say… oh, I don’t know, it was possible to create artificial human intelligence. Imagine everything that defines you—your memories, your personality, your horrid fashion sense—was replicated flawlessly in a nonhuman entity, and your brother fell for that version of you instead.”
He held Celty’s head up high, gazing upon her eternally closed eyes. Not giving Namie a chance to answer, he carried on. “Alternatively, what if there was a version of him that loved you as you are? Despite his proclivity for severed heads… or what if someone erased that from him?”
“If I were anyone else, I would ask if you were drunk.”
Finally, Izaya faced her. He brought Celty’s head down to meet her at her level. “But you’re not.”
She was fuming, now. Oh, he would have loved to see her throw a punch; he could see it in her eyes. It had been some time since she had lost her temper with him.
As calmly as she could, Namie said, “Would you, lover of humanity you are, really settle for second best? What an asinine question. Look at what you’re holding. You would never accept a replacement for your precious little key to Valhalla. Seiji is Seiji. I would never betray him.”
“Not even for what you desire most?”
“I’m insulted that you would believe my love to be so fickle. Though, at the end of the day, what do you really know of love?”
Check, and mate.
Namie continued her rant, oblivious to the slightest shift in his expression. “You can perform all of these thought experiments, but they will get you nowhere. This is the one thing I doubt you will ever be able to understand.”
“And why wouldn’t I understand? My love for humanity is absolute.”
In that moment, Namie gave up. She wasn't paid enough for this.
♂♀
Orihara Izaya, reborn!
Tsukumoya Shinichi: Was your mission a success?
Orihara Izaya: Somewhat, though not in the way you’re expecting.
Tsukumoya Shinichi: You know my expectations, then?
Orihara Izaya: I have only reaffirmed what I knew to be the truth. Nothing will ever matter more than my beloved humans.
Tsukumoya Shinichi: Very well. I did expect as much.
Tsukumoya Shinichi: You can continue to run, but what you are avoiding will catch up with you. Eventually.
Orihara Izaya: Good talk.
Orihara Izaya, confirmed dead!
Tsukumoya Shinichi’s turn!
Tsukumoya Shinichi’s turn!
Tsukumoya Shinichi’s turn!
Tsukumoya Shinichi’s turn!
♂♀
Spinning in his chair, Izaya finally allowed himself to laugh. Not the reserved snicker he gave Shinra. A full-on cackle, growing and growing until he forced his chair to a stop. Running away. What a joke. He would not give Tsukumoya the satisfaction. He didn’t deserve it.
“What is it that makes you an independent observer, and not a part of the humans you so adore?”
And, the unspoken question, “What is it that makes you classify Shizuo-kun, who is human, as a monster?”
“What do you really know of love?”
It didn’t matter! None of it mattered! He was Orihara Izaya, and he loved
loved
loved
loved
loved
humans.