Theatre of the Absurd
Summary: [AU] After some years, Orihara Izaya finds himself back in Ikebukuro. In this dead city, the highschooler wondered what could possibly occur? "You'd be surprised."
"Seriously?"
"I heard he's leaving NY."
"Damn, finally, that little devil…"
"I heard he's returning to his home country."
"Shit, that bastard's running away before I can…"
"I heard he's fleeing from the Underground leaders."
"Geez, how old is that kid anyways…"
"I heard he's leaving NY."
"Thank god!"
He leaned against the concrete pillar and stared into the crowd of the subway station. Ikebukuro changed, he thought. It was different to see the crowd at eye level than looking up. Well, it has been five years since he last laid eyes on this city.
Some things must have changed. As he scanned the crowd, he delighted himself in seeing that something, or rather, someone hadn't changed.
A dorky looking boy with oval glasses was frantically looking left and right, searching for someone. And if he were correct, this boy was looking for him.
So he quietly walked up behind the dorky looking boy and greeted loudly, "Shinra~! How have you been old friend?"
Kishitani Shinra jumped and almost fell over trying to turn around.
"I-Izaya-kun!"
Orihara Izaya merely hummed in acknowledgement. True to the years, Shinra had physically grown and matured. He had grown in height and his extremities were much more lanky. Even so, just by looking at the face, Izaya had known that the boy was his old elementary friend.
"I can't believe you came to see me even though I told you not to," Izaya said, smiling. They began making their way out of the station and into the sunlight city of Ikebukuro.
"Well, it's been a couple years since you've been back," Shinra said, laughing. "So I thought you might like a guide."
"There are things called maps."
"Well, I wouldn't want Kanra-chan to get into trouble her first day here."
"What trouble could I possible get involved in? In this dead city?"
Shinra laughed, "Oh you'd be surprised Izaya."
But for the next two weeks, Izaya was not surprised at all. Raira Academy was a typical school with typical students. Ikebukuro was a typical town with typical events. Nothing out of the normal.
Ever since he arrived, Shinra had been like a leech, never leaving Izaya's side as long as the brunette went out. Unavoidably, he met some of Shinra's friends; the awkward blonde, Heiwajima Shizuo, the quiet brunette, Kodota Kyohei, and the mute motorcyclist, Celty Sturluson. They were odd, but a rather normal bunch. A disappointment after all the rumors he heard.
Heiwajima Shizuo could take on a gang of bikers…nothing can kill him, not even a truck! He can even rip signposts out of the ground, not to mention vending machines!
But from what Izaya could see, the blonde was just a rampaging protozoan creature who enjoyed vandalizing public property quiet a lot. But the rumors of his exploits exceeded him. The blonde was not strong enough to take on a whole gang! Heck, the blonde couldn't even throw a trashcan, much less a vending machine. Last time the blonde tried to pick up a vending machine to hurl at him, he couldn't even get the thing to tip. It was ridiculous what people believed.
The Headless Rider…it comes and goes as it pleases and rides a bike the neighs like a horse…it's like the Grim Reaper…strength undetermined but it definitely cannot be underestimated…
Well, this one definitely took the cake. Headless rider? It couldn't be anyone but Celty. While Izaya had yet to determine whether the woman was headless or not—she kept avoiding his question and refuses to take off her helmet, she was quite stuck on Shinra. Their love was like a comedy; Shinra forever chasing and Celty forever avoiding. Comical to watch, but definitely predictable.
So after two weeks of having a combination of Shinra, Celty, Shizuo or Kodota walk him home, Izaya gave them the slip. Wandering into the afternoon haze alone, Izaya smiled and challenged the city: Surprise me.
And that challenge didn't go unanswered.
He loved exploring cities. New York had been his playground growing up. It had been the place where he learned all his tricks and deceit. People hated him over there. People feared him over there. People loved him over there. He had played in the Big Apple, what was Ikebukuro?
So Orihara Izaya skipped into a rundown bar, disregarding the fact he was still in his school uniform. And the moment the alcohol and smell of despair hit his nose, Izaya knew he was home.
"Hey Bartender-san," he greeted, sitting down on a stool at the bar. "Who can I find in this city if I want someone killed?"
That question always managed to find him the best playthings. It was always good to know the most extreme individuals first and then scope out the rest of the city. First the most murderous, then the easiest to manipulate.
The bartender gave him a look, evaluating the teenager sitting in front of him.
"Boy, go home. This place isn't for the likes of you."
Izaya giggled. Oh, how many times has he heard the phrase? But all those people ended up pouring their lives out to him eventually. Patience, he told himself. Patience.
"Well—" The familiar two tone ring cut him off. Izaya gave the bartender a smile and a quick 'sorry, I have to take this' before flipping open his phone. The caller ID showed the name of his old boss back in New York and he wasn't about to burn bridges just yet.
"Shiki-san, I was wondering when I'd hear from you again!"
"How's Ikebukuro been to you so far?"
"Rather boring," the teenager giggled in the tone he knew would set Shiki's eyebrow twitching. "And since you're calling me, I'm guessing it's a job."
"No, I would call it a favor. After all, you are a bit out of reach, Orihara-san."
"Shiki-san asking for a favor," Izaya hummed to himself. "It would be rather rude to refuse."
"I want you to find Kida Masaomi. He shouldn't be too hard to locate especially for an informant like you. When you get in touch with him, call me again."
"I wonder what's in it for me?"
"A cure for your boredom."
"When I find your friend, I'll be relieved of my boredom here in this insignificant city?"
"Oh, you'd be surprised." And the line dropped.
Now that was two people who've said that. Izaya skipped out of the bar with a little more enthusiasm in his step.
Kida Masaomi, he repeated in his mind. This was going to be fun.
"Izaya, I've heard you been over in Shinjuku these nights," the blonde called, trudging over to the brunette's desk.
"Hmm, what is it to you, Shi-zu-chan~?" Izaya questioned with a smirk.
"Shizu! Arg, I'm not here to get pissed off," Shizuo growled, slamming his fists on the poor desk. Izaya felt the bottom side of the desk press into his leg. So the brute's got some strength, Izaya thought. "I'm just here to tell you to stay out of it."
"Stay out of it? Stay out of Shinjuku?" Izaya continued, teasingly. "We've only known each other for two month Shizu-chan. I don't think our relationship has gone so far for you to be so possessive."
"I-za-ya-kun."
Oh, he snapped, the brunette sighed internally. With quick feet, Izaya managed to leave his desk before it became broken in two and dash out into the hallway. And like north and south magnets, Shizuo followed closely behind, screaming all the way.
The boys made their way onto of the roof without any interruption, even as the second bell rang. No teachers yelled and no students interfered. They saw Shinra on the way, but his greetings were overwhelmed by Shizuo's loud roars. So here they were, on the roof.
Collapsing next to each other on parallel benches, the boys wheezed as their lungs finally took in much needed oxygen. While the blonde was crude, he was straightforward and simple. Not something Izaya hated in humans. And after Shinra, the brunette had to admit Shizuo was probably the next closest thing to a friend in the dull city:
"Neh, Shizu-chan."
"It's Heiwajima Shizuo, you little flea."
"What's in Shinjuku that you don't want me to get involved with?"
"…"
Izaya flipped over to face his blonde companion and whined, "If you don't tell me, I wouldn't know what to avoid when I'm there!"
"If I tell you, would you swear not to go find them?"
"Of course." But I won't be looking for them if you tell me where they are!
"Ah, Shinra's going to get mad at me for sure. He never wanted you to know about any of this," the blonde groaned, ruffling his own hair in frustration.
That explains the guard shifts, Izaya thought back to the past couple of weeks.
"You swear you wouldn't. You better not be lying, flea."
"I'm not lying!"
Shizuo seemed to stare into the sky, contemplating. Usually Izaya would bug the blonde and tease him while he tried to think, but today, Izaya just laid still and waited.
"There are three people you don't ever want to get involved with in Ikebukuro or anywhere for that matter."
Izaya smiled. There were three. Shiki-san only gave him one.
"...Have you ever heard of the Dollars?"
"Dollars? Oh, the no-color gang?"
"Its head is Kida Masaomi. The former shogun of the Yellow Scarves, a color gang that had been pretty active until about a year ago."
"Kida Masaomi?" Izaya echoed. Well that was no fun, Shiki-san already gave him that one.
"Yeah, you…you don't want to mess with him, well, or his girlfriend for that matter."
"So Kida Masaomi is the leader of the Dollars. I've never heard of that."
"Not a lot of people know that."
"Then why do you, Shizu-chan?"
The blonde turned to face him for the first time in their whole conversation. He seemed to be struggling with himself, but the moment passed as the blonde finally replied:
"I used to be apart of the Dollars. That's why."
"Shizu-chan in a gang? That's rather unsuspected, seeing as you're such a model student when you're not trying to murder me."
His companion faced away, returning his gaze to the late morning sky. Then was the bitter reply:
"Oh, you'd be surprised."
Finding Kida Masaomi had been way easier than he suspected. To the point, Izaya wondered whether the former shogun would be as fun as he originally hoped. But who knows? Shiki-san never gave him boring toys to play with in the past, why would the second generation Japanese-American yazuka start now?
"Saki-chan! This order goes to table five!"
"Hai, Masaomi!"
The deep fryer crackled with the battered up vegetables and the pot broiled with salty broth. The restaurant itself was rather quiet. Even though it was the evening rush, the restaurant had little customers. Izaya sat at table five, waiting for his food in boredom. When he found Kida Masaomi, Izaya did the good boy thing for once and called Shiki-san immediately.
The New Yorker had been slightly surprised, but gave him simple instructions:
Sit at table five. If it's occupied wait until it's not. Order two grilled chicken skewers in miso sauce. Don't eat it and wait. If the waitress asks you if you want to take out, refuse and say you're waiting for someone. Someone will be with you shortly. When he gets there, call me again.
So when the waitress with deceiving eyes and a happy smile placed down the two plates, Izaya smiled at her and didn't follow directions.
"Saki-san," he called just as she was turning away. In that instance, he noted her common short haircut, her brand new apron and cell phone accessory that dangled out of her pocket, a miniature doll of the blonde chef in the kitchen. "I was wondering if you could answer a couple of my questions. I'm new around here and I haven't made any friends yet."
The woman smiled and answered in a soft but reassured tone, "Sure…um…"
"Izaya. Orihara Izaya."
"…Izaya-kun," she continued to smile. "Do you live around here?"
"I actually moved to Ikebukuro," he answered. There are times for lies but not yet. These questions were innocent enough. He didn't want simple things to cause suspicion. "But it's suffocating there." With boredom.
"Izaya-kun, I know what you mean. Ikebukuro isn't a place that people are able to stay in," she said sincerely. Her sincerity was eerie but that was no more interesting than Shinra's peculiarity. "But I would warn you to stay out of the streets at night because people might want to take advantage of a sweet boy like you."
"Saki-san, actually that's what I wanted to ask you about," Izaya said with a slight concerned look on his face. He perfected it to tug on the heartstrings of any female. "Someone asked me if I were interested to join the Dollars."
"The…Dollars?"
Izaya gazed up in interest as she hesitated for just a moment. If she had seen the look on his face as he smiled cruelly at her, she might have indignantly turned away. But her gaze was not on him; it was on something beyond him. Her eyes were slightly wide, hands were shaking just a tad and her face was pale.
"Are they bad people…Saki-san?"
For a long time, she didn't answer. She didn't even answer the calls of Kida Masaomi. The blonde quickly came over in worry, not even glancing in Izaya's direction. Izaya took his chance to get a quick over on the blonde with a matching apron as the woman.
"Saki? Saki, are you okay?"
The woman finally broke from her trance. Kida Masaomi gently squeezed her hand with a smile. She whispered some reassurances and addressed Izaya once more.
"The Dollars…generally they're not bad people. I don't know how much you know about the Dollars, but they're a colorless group. They have no structure, no hierarchy, no rules," she continued, the color returning to her countenance as well as her cheerful smile. "And no way of knowing who's in and who's not. So just to be safe, I would refuse the offer."
"Saki-san," Izaya whispered. He knew what he had to do to look sincere and hoped it didn't come out too mocking. Her smile assured him that it was received well and she didn't suspect a thing.
The phone rang in the distance and Saki jumped, "Ah, Masaomi, I'll answer it. Excuse me, Izaya-kun!"
"Don't mind me," the teenager smiled with a friendly wave.
"Is this take-out?" Kida Masaomi asked. It was the first time they addressed each other and the blonde didn't seem to like him at all.
"Sorry Kida Masaomi-san, I'm waiting for somebody."
There was a tense moment of disbelief from the man, but the disbelief quickly thawed into distrust.
"…Are you associates with Shiki-san?"
"Am I? Shogun-san?"
"You little brat," Kida sighed as he pulled out his cell. Izaya's eyes immediately focused on the phone charm that looked like a miniature Saki. Pressing one of the numbers on speed dial, Kida stood grouchily next to the table with a hand on his hips. "Hello? It's Kida. As promised the Americans sent someone. No, it's a kid. Yes, he did exactly…no, I'm not pulling on your leg so get yourself here somehow."
The phone crisply clicked shut.
"The boss will be here soon," the blonde told the teen. Kida jabbed a finger in Izaya's direction and sternly directed, "Kid, don't mess with anything or try anything funny. The next person who comes to your table will be the one you've been looking for."
With those words the blonde man returned to the kitchen. Izaya was half surprised but half expectant. So this Kida Masaomi was not the leader of the Dollars. Either that or there was a larger picture beyond the Dollars. Smiling with dark pleasure, Izaya challenged the city once more: Surprise me.
And this time, the city of Ikebukuro answered with the clicking of leather shoes, the innocence of a mellow smile and the twirl of a ballpoint pen:
"Hello, Orihara Izaya-kun, I've been expecting you. I'm Ryuugamine Mikado."
A/N: I have several unfinished pieces (this one included) of DRRR and other fandoms that I'm going to publish and doubtfully finish. I'm going to start a pretty new chapter of my life, which requires me to focus on something for once. These are only ideas at this point, things I've written months (even years) ago.
I know this is a horrible thing for an author to say, but this and my other pieces will probably not be complete for the next five years at the least. I will always be thinking about stories and conjuring new things but I'm no longer going to have the time to actually write them out.
Theatre of the Absurd was something I began writing after reading the play Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead because I wanted to play with some philosophy but instead this came out. I guess being on a DRRR high at the time didn't help me so I just went 'what the hell, why not?'