It was finally over, wasn't it?
Izaya looked out the window of his apartment. This was what came to his mind as soon as he saw the city he once called home. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, Mikado and Masaomi were talking about girls and school, Shizuo and Tom were collecting payment or in Shizuo's case, flinging signs and poles around for everyone to see, and the color gangs were doing their day-to-day things. Fights still occasionally broke out, and Celty was still being chased by cops, but things have quieted down remarkably for Ikebukuro…all because Izaya wasn't here anymore.
Izaya still lived in Ikebukuro though only he knew that. For all the other's knew, he was probably not even in the Kanto region anymore. They all assumed he had just…disappeared after the fight, between him and Shizuo. Although to be honest, Izaya preferred things to stay this way, obscure and discrete. He didn't want anyone to know that he was still here…because he cared too much to let that happen. Call it a change of heart if you will, but the fact remains; he didn't want anyone else hurt because of him. The realization hit him after he had somewhat recovered from their fight. He realized that what he was doing was couldn't continue anymore. However, this realization did not lead him to a better, happier life, happy ending for everyone, or make up with everyone and live happily ever after. Things like that don't happen or rarely happen. For Izaya, the experience had somewhat scarred him. He always flinched slightly-mentally or physically-when he saw Shizuo, always sighed sadly when he saw Shinra and Celty, and always felt a pang of nostalgia whenever he saw Mairu or Kururi. He did not want anyone else to be associated with him; personally at least. He remembered how he used to be in control of everything, laughing when he saw his plans going accordingly to how he imagined it, chuckling delightedly whenever he saw something exceeded his expectations and complementing anyone that interfered with him.
Now he was just trying to stay alone
Izaya looked back to his laptop that replaced his deluxe monitor set and continued typing. He was still an information broker, though not in the same way as before (This term is actually incorrect. An information broker is a person that sells information to others in exchange for money. To not do that wouldn't be classified as an information broker) Now, he was searching for dirty secrets of Ikebukuro, exposing them, and taking care of the problem personally before anyone had to get involved. This also included tracking the lives of Mikado, Shizuo and the rest of the population of Ikebukuro to make sure they were not caught up in anything unhealthy. As a former information broker, he knew how to distinguish from casual things from not-so-casual things. Ironically, it was because of his new line of work that gained him unwanted fame. Several times, he had to make personal trips to take care of something particularly troubling and had been seen by bystanders.
He was known locally as Musei sakkaku; Voiceless Illusion. In some ways, he had become a legend, like Celty. He would take pleasure in the fact that he was now helping instead of hurting.
The last case had been relatively simple and straightforward. A gang had been targeting children in the area, kidnapping them and receiving huge amounts of money to have then returned. Izaya had caught on long before anyone else even noticed, pretending to be a sibling paying for the safety of their kids, then leading the cops right to them. Common gang activity was all legal enough, but what they were doing was beyond tolerance. He had seen several anonymous thanks on the internet for the person that had saved them. He would always feel a glow at that, knowing that he had done something good, or even honorable.
Right now, he was typing away on his laptop, looking for local rumors, possible threats or anything else he had to deal with. It was still fun, he had to admit, to know everything that goes on. Sure it may not be for the same reasons as before, but it was still…comforting to know…things…that happen. He chuckled soundlessly at the ever-envolving theories about Musei Sakkaku's identity which were dotted all across the internet, and how inaccurate they were. Some people suspected the Black Rider to be the same person as Musei Sakkaku, others believed that he was a ghost that was seeking vengeance on certain people that just so happened to be the baddies of Ikebukuro. They were always fun to read, though Izaya had always feared that there would be that one person that actually got it right.
"Psyche-san, are you okay?" said a robotic voice. Izaya looked down at his PDA to see an A.I. looking back at him, worry evident on her face. She was an Artificial Intelligence he had personally programmed, with almost every trait a human had. {I'm alright} he typed, laughing. The A.I., Sonia, looked unconvinced. "You may fool yourself, but you can't to a robot. Are you worrying over about the theories about you again? I recommend you get up and walk around. Don't forget to not use your voice unless you have to" Izaya nodded. After the fight with Shizuo, one may expect his legs or arms to be broken, but they weren't. No, it was his voice box that got busted, though how that'd happened was beyond him. Because of this, his use of sound is limited to about an hour a day. (This is probably incorrect due to the fact that a nearly-destroyed voice box would stop working if one uses it for a straight hour. But hey, it's Durarara we're talking about) Izaya thought of this as more of a penalty for losing rather than a disability, so he had taken it quietly, not really minding the fact that he wasn't allowed to talk for twenty-three hours/day. He carries a PDA around, like Celty, whenever he has to communicate. It was a neat little arrangement and one that worked remarkably despite its simplicity.
"Psyche!" shouted Sonia, turning his attention back onto herself, "I'm supposed to monitor your movements and give you advice on what you should do! You programmed me to do just that, and if you're not going to listen, I'm going to turn off your laptop so you'll have no choic!" Izaya smiled tolerantly at the little, red-faced A.I., {I know, and you're doing a great job. I was just…thinking…about things…} he typed. Sonia scowled at him, "Well stop thinking and start working! Don't forget your next episode is due in eight hours!" Izaya nodded. Since he had given up on being an information broker, he became an animator. Fan-written stories were sent to him, he would animate the entire thing-one episode at a time, and they would agree on a price. He had chosen to collect payment after completion simply as a sign of honesty even though some may argue that it would be a unintelligent move in the working world. It was a stable enough job, and one that he enjoyed because he could share the workload with Sonia if he wanted to even though Sonia would tell him it was "cheating".
As the thought occurred, Izaya quickly typed {Hey Sonia? Can you handle the animations for tonight? I'll be going out to check on a few things} Sonia frowned, "What happened?" she asked. Izaya shook his head, {Nothing important. I just thought I should go out more often. After all, I can't go outside during daytime now can I?} Sonia sighed, "Sure, I'll see what I can do" she said. {Thanks, you're a big help} he typed before closing his PDA with a small smack. Ikebukuro's real nature was about to be revealed, and Izaya was going to see like he did...every day.
Hi! It's Me!
The prologue is done! I don't think I'll be continuing this series but I still thought I should put it out here. I'm actually really reluctant to put this one out here because I honestly don't' think this one is all that good. I literally ran out of ideas as soon as I posted this, so don't expect anything great from this one.
That's all I got, Ciao!
