Warnings: Homosexual relationships, mind breakage, explicit sexual situations, among other adult themes. Listing all the warnings would take forever. You have been warned.

Echoing hollowly on the alley walls, a young man's quick, hurried strides met the pavement of south Ikebukuro. Jaw clenched nervously, he turned into Russia Sushi to find the back of a furred hood jacket, reclining on a barstool at the counter. Sighing with relieved tension, he approached the young man eating a plate of tuna sushi. Fishing a manila envelope out of his bag, he transferred it to the waiting hands of the slim male, appearing to be a few years older than himself. Bright, ruby eyes regarded him questioningly.

"This would be..?" a smooth, almost feminine, voice inquired. A mocking smirk curved thin lips at the corners. Delicate hands popped the seal and pulled out a collection of documents. As he skimmed over the writing, the messenger thought it a good time to speak.

"A pre-payment from my employer, Orihara-san. She has…things she would like to know. I was instructed to deliver this envelope." Perspiration beaded the Yakuza member's forehead. This man was dangerous. Calculating, obsessed with his fellow humans. No, not even that. He thought himself above them, considered himself a god. Being face to face only confirmed this; the narcissist's narrowed eyes scanning the kanji, his ever-present smirk deepening when he was finished. Slipping the bundle into his jacket pocket, Izaya Orihara left without another word.

Oh, what trouble my dear humans have gotten themselves into~! Izaya thought as he hummed a tune, skipping deeper into the heart of Ikebukuro. Human trafficking, hmm? My poor, poor humans, fighting among themselves like this... a light frown marred his face for merely a moment, before it vanished with the screaming of the one thing that could ease his boredom.

"IZAAAAYAAAAAAA! WHERE DO YOU THINK YOU'RE GOING?!" The furious snarl echoing from down the street made Izaya giggle. Poor Shizu-Chan, he's lost his way. Izaya was, of course, aware of area around them. This part of town was not the cleanest, nor the safest. Being here in itself was a big risk, and what would a 'respectable bartender' be doing here? Surely there was a tree he needed to urinate on?

Squealing with mirth, the louse weaved his way through the streets, dancing out of the way of signposts and trash cans, many with gang symbols spray-painted on their sides. By the time he had reached his destination, Izaya was quite out of breath. Stepping daintily over a stop sign embedded in the cement, he was fairly surprised when there was very suddenly a ring of men around him.

Puzzled, Izaya tipped his head at them. These were certainly not the type of humans he saw every day. These ones were different from his usual beloved masses. They wore the same clothes, although this in itself was not particularly strange. It was the choice of outfit that befuddled him. Dark cargo pants, with black tank tops. Noticing the small eight star necklaces on each thug, Izaya frowned deeper.

Satanists, perhaps? My, these humans are surely strange. That's alright, though. I love my humans in all of their forms. Smiling lovingly, he steadied to kick their asses, when he noticed the looks on their faces. The looks centered on him went from focused...to reverent looking, almost…worshiping. Now thoroughly confused, Izaya studied them closer. The leader was gazing at him in adoration, the way devout people… look at their gods. Now cautious, Izaya glanced at his attire. It was slightly different than that of his cronies.

This one wore a different necklace, one of an eight pointed star with two squares intersecting. But the centerpiece is what caught Izaya's attention. In the middle rested what looked like a body, eyes half lidded. The hands were placed to the sides, almost in a spread eagle position. Despite the whole picture of sexual need, the face looked almost…bored. A condescending, leering look. The now most unnerving fact was that the body struck a shocking similarity…to himself.

Now slightly disturbed, the brunette glanced around at all of them, contemplating his route of escape. Before a plan had formed, two of the thugs lunged together. Frowning at the pathetic attempt, Izaya spun and caught one of them in the jaw. His heel ground into the miscreant's chin, while the other one cussed violently at the three pocket blades studding his chest.

What Izaya had not been counting on was the sudden restriction on his arms. Turning to glower at the offender, he didn't notice the one he had been crushing flip his ankle, tripping him and his body smashing into the pavement. Izaya managed to get one good head-butt in before a foul smelling rag was pushed into his face.

The last thing he glimpsed were heads bowed in his direction, hands clasped together. A slow, steady hum of voices accompanied him into unconsciousness.

Aha! My first chapter ever! I'm so exciteeeeeeeeeeed! I can't wait to see if any of my idols reads and or praises it! Ok, ok, so this story gets downright weird in a few chapters. (Specifically the next one). I would love your comments! Any suggestions for the next chapter? Yes, I'm aware that I was given a plot, but what fun is there if you can't add a bit of your own stuff?

I love you all! Reviews are the life force of my story(s)!

And also, W.T.H. None of my stories are being updated! I make changes, save them, and nothing happens! NOTHING! I swear to god I edited this thing two days ago and nothing has changed. With ANY and ALL of my stories the same thing keeps happening. I'm gonna complain to someone, seriously. This is just not cool. Embarrassing mistakes I can't fix? Lame.