A/N: I'm rewriting Per Ironiam Fatum. Don't get me wrong, the original is good-but I want to cover more of Lucia's life and her new life as Izaya: This includes going over his new life as a baby (though albeit more brief) and then life as a toddler and mostly his years into elementary and high school. And then the fun stuff begins. I rambled on way too much in the original, so I want to try and redo it. I hope you'll enjoy the new incarnation of it.

"Reborn here in this grubby old hospital, surrounded by the sick and the dying, people who deserve a second chance far more than he does. But it isn't the pink-and-white cooing kind of rebirth. It's more like being wrenched from a warm, dark, comfortable place and forced out into a bright, frightening world where nothing is certain."

― Peter Blauner, The Intruder

"I wouldn't mind dying — it's the business of having to stay dead that scares the shit out of me." R. Geis'

"Don't feel bad, I'm usually about to die."

― Rick Riordan, The Battle of the Labyrinth

Chapter One: That's the way the Vending Machine falls, or in other words, why on earth am I Izaya Orihara, of all people? Fate hates me.


Life is a fickle thing, as destiny can also be. One can never quite tell what will happen in their lives. One second, you can be a happy, happy human being, and then the next, you could be suffering great misfortune and be begging for death to come hit you. Death and life are both intertwined in one great union.

You can't live without knowing-somehow, from the time that you're an infant watching television-that, even though your parents tell you sweet, sweet little fairy tales about life and how 'heaven' exists-you know that one day, your very existence will vanish, disappear. It'll happen to you, and to me, and to everyone you care about, from your friends to your parents to even your pets.

Death does not judge on character.

Death does not pick or choose favorites. Death merely does its job, meticulously, coming to everyone, from the tiniest blade of grass, to a big oak tree, an insect, and even t a human being.

Death does not care who it takes with it. It will take you at any time, at any place, at any age. You can be ten years old, even an old person, and death will steal you away from this world.

It steals infants from mothers when they are barely old enough to walk, it steals parents who are dying of cancer. It can be slow and steady, like cancer, or fast like a heart attack. But as good ol' Benjamin Franklin put it best, there are only two certainties to life: taxes and death.

Too bad ol' Ben never realized there was more truth to it than that.

But death and life? I should really know what it's like to meet death.

I know that more than any other human being on this earth.

But, when you think about it, life and death are awfully fascinating things to think about, don't you agree?

Ah, you disagree? You prefer to live your life, happy as can be, with your head up in the clouds, without any worries, or Hakuna Matata, as Timone and Pumbaa put it.

But that attitude will never help you live. Humans prefer to ignore death, don't they?

The newscasters refer to death not in the regular sense, but in the abstract, like it doesn't exist. Someone didn't die when they were hit by a car, they were fatally wounded, a president is not murdered, he is assassinated, soldiers in warfare refer to dead people as casualties of war. It is as though they erase the very sense of life itself.

Kids, your parents don't want you to know that death exists. But it does, it does, trust me. Not that I'm the person to necessarily trust in, heh. But seriously, close your eyes for a few moments...and think about it, really think about it.

Humans can die, of anything, in the most fascinating ways.

Humans can be hit by buses, beheaded, captured, drowned, burned at the stake. Some survive such horrible odds. Others do not. Think of Tycho Brahe, who died of intestinal blockage, or of people who have literally laughed themselves to death.

Yet so many of you humans choose to ignore such fascinating thoughts-in favor of clinging to a delusion that we'll always be alive. The truth is, life can be taken away oh so easily. Like I said, I know from first-hand experience.

Ah~, but then you might wonder, am I really being serious? Am I perhaps telling a tall tale, like I usually do, hmm~? Ha ha, perhaps. But one like me does not give out secrets easily-that would be far too boring. You see, though I am alive today, typing all this out, at this very moment...a long time ago, I was alive, too.

There's just one thing.

I died, you see. But an extraordinary thing occurred.

I was reborn, in a different world from my own; in a different life, in a whole new country, even. I had never even believed in reincarnation until it happened to me. Yet I was reborn, as a new person.

But, of all ironies, I happened to be reborn in a world I'd previously thought fictitious, as a character I happened to despise most, and not only that, my sex was changed. From where I had once been a female, I am now a male.

But before all that, let me backtrack just a bit here. I am typing this on my cell phone, so anyone who actually finds this will read it. Alas, they will probably assume I am lying like I usually do.

As I walk, I put my hands in the pockets of my jacket, letting out a loud sigh. It sure is a nice day outside. Very sunny day, lots of nice people around, they're perfect for stalking and getting information out of-wait, what?

As I look around casually, I suddenly hear a loud crash. People behind me start to panic, and run. What could this be, I wonder? Oh, only one thing. One thing, indeed.

I turn my head, slowly. My black bangs slide in front of my eyes; immediately, I push my hair back with my fingers, happening to eye the silver rings on them in interest. A smile dances on my face before it blossoms into a smirk.

'Ah, I knew it. Here it comes.'

A random object suddenly comes flying in my peripheral vision-it is a mere lamp post, ripped out of the ground. Normally, any ordinary person would scream and run. But I? I am accustomed to such things.

Sighing, I scratched my head and step over the wreckage gently, playfully touching it with my fingers before I waved sarcastically at the people nearby, who panic and run.

"It's him! Why is he here, this is bad news?"

"How rude," I mutter, delighted at their being unnerved by me. People can be fun sometimes to mess with. Not that I completely hated them or considered them below me, but they were fun to play with at times.

I guess I've always been a prankster of sorts. But never really outright malicious, most of it is theatrics, to blend in in this role.

I checked my watch, before a smirk played on my face. "Ah, perfect timing. He's here like usual. Predictable~."

You might be wondering as to the identity of the person in question.

Ah, I'll give you three guesses.

I hear a scraping noise as metal is dragged along the ground, and then huge, menacing footfalls behind me. I turn to greet him, smirking. How nice of him to come greet me. He went all this way, just for me.

A long time ago, I would have been squealing in delight upon seeing this man-back when I was someone else. That was then, this is now.

A tall man stands before me, wearing a black-and-white outfit, very nicely dressed. He has blue shades on, as a cigarette dangles from his mouth, it falls to the ground. His blond hair blowing in the wind as he glares at me, like I'm the most despicable person in the world.

Maybe I am, maybe I'm not.

"...So, it's you, again...how many times have I told you now that seeing your face makes me want to vomit...you disgusting flea."

How rude. I step backwards, smirking.

"...Such a rude thing to say about a person. I am a human being, you know...lowly protozoan." I say, flashing a knife out from my pocket. I am so used to this extraordinary routine by now.

Let me share a secret.

You see, dear reader-death seems to be both ironic and disgusting.

On the one hand, it's all fine and dandy that you get to live again, but you see, you don't even get to choose who you are reborn as. Sometimes, you really get a bad sleight of hand. It's like Fate laughs at you as she chooses your next life, throws you down a chute, and screams, "Enjoy your new life!"

The man before me sneers and lifts up the stop sign, heaving it directly at me, screaming a very familiar word, not a word but a name. One, that you might just recognize.

"IIIIIZAAAAAAAAAAYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Hm, what did he say? Let's listen again.

"What did I tell you, IIzaaayaaaa? Don't you listen, Izaya? I've told you-"

Izaya. What?

Don't look at me like that. It's a fine name, isn't it?

"BEFORE THAT I HATE YOUR GUTS, ORIHARA IZAYA, SO DIE!"

Yep, that's who I am now. Like I said, I died, and I was reborn, in a universe I was quite familiar with-of all places, the universe of Durarara! But I wasn't reborn as anyone-nope, fate had to be ironic and reincarnate me as none other than Orihara freaking Izaya, the resident troll and villain of said universe.

I'm used to this mess by now.

"Oh, Shizu-chan, you're so predictable. You know, you're going to make yourself deaf one day. Such incessant screaming...aren't you tired of that?" I purr, dodging his childish maneuvers effortlessly. When you run for your life every single day, you tend to get quite used to human stupidity, especially coming from Shizuo.

And when half of the planet has it out for you simply because of who you are.

Yeah, I miss the days when I could roam freely without crazy bartenders trying to kill me.

But, distracting myself will not change the fact that-Heiwajima Shizuo-is trying to kill me. Again.

I used to be an ordinary...girl. Yes, I used to be a female, an ordinary girl, living life in the real world. Where anime was blissfully non-existent. Being reborn as a boy was quite jarring.

However, I'll talk about that, dear reader~, once I finish playing with Shizu-chan here and try to avoid an early grave. Again.

"IZAYYYA!" The oh-so-stupid protozoan screeches as he swings the stop sign at me, again. When will he learn that I've caught on to his tricks by now?

"...Shizu-chan, I'm over here," I said, brandishing my switchblade, "And look, now you've been slashed...again."

Even if I am Izaya now, one can't help but sometimes fall into insanity. Hey, if this new life makes you unhinged, it makes you unhinged. It wasn't like I would tell anyone the truth. No way they would believe that. I don't enjoy being evil, but it's the role.

I've changed a lot. But part of me is still the same.

"Damned pest...how dare you cut me!" He bellowed, as we started our chase, me in the lead. I ducked behind corners and threw myself over fences, smiling as he shouted curses at me.

"Not Orihara and Heiwajima again!" I heard someone cry.

"Thanks for the exercise, Shizu-chan! Try some Prozac for that temper, it might help!"

He scowled at me and attempted to punch me again, which I lazily dodged.

I didn't hate Shizuo, per se, not like the real did, but I did get annoyed by how he refused to believe Izaya could ever be a good person. How come people could believe Psyche and the Izaya alternates were good, but not Izaya? Hypocrites.

I came to the end of an alleyway. Shit, I was trapped. I whirled around in time to see Shizuo...dragging a vending machine with him.

I paled considerably. Not again...I was not going to die by a vending machine.

Yes, that's how I died in my past life.

Isn't that ironic?

"Die...flea!" He yelled, hurling it at me, only for it to be suspended in mid-air as a pair of shadows ensnared it.

My heart pounded faster. Oh yes, it was my favorite character...Celty. You know, before I'd been turned into the worst asshole on the face of the planet, she'd probably actually treat me like a human being.

I paused, watching as Celty set the vending machine down, and then her shadows ensnared both me and Shizuo, oblivious to our struggles.

'Shizuo, you're injured,' She wrote on her phone, as she let go of me, and approached Shizuo, ignoring me. I was used to this by now, pouting as a response, not happy that Celty was spurning me.

"...Damn that stupid flea. Why won't you let me kill him?" Shizuo cried.

"You're too pathetic to do so, Shizu-chan. Besides, get that hideous thing away from me."

"You'd better not be referring to Celty-"

"No, this," I said, pointing at the vending machine, "I hate these things." I kicked it, making a dent in it.

Shizuo threw me a funny look, but said nothing, still frowning.

'Izaya, why do you cause trouble for Shizuo?' Celty wrote as Shizuo walked away, infuriated again at his botched attempt to kill me.

I shrugged my shoulders. What, because it was my role as the only villain on the show to cause chaos? I didn't necessarily enjoy hurting others-like Saki, that made me very sad but I tried hard not to show it.

"Shizu-chan was being a pain."

'You injured him,' Celty wrote.

"He's a monster. He heals fast." I said dismissively.

'...Izaya, you're lower than scum.'

That stung. "...I have feelings, you know, Celty. But I'm well-aware of that."

She tilted her helmet. 'Sometimes you act odd, Izaya. Are you going to cause more trouble?'

"Nope," I said, stifling a yawn, "I'm going home. By the way...Celty...do you believe in past lives?"

She tilted her helmet again. 'What do you mean?'

"Like reincarnation," I said absently.

'...Well, it could be possible. Why do you ask?'

"No reason. I was just curious. Ah, the wonders that humans believe. See you later, Celty!" I said cheerfully, but she stopped me.

'Are you going to cause more trouble?'

"...Now, now, not really. I'm interested in going home and going to bed. See you, Celty." I said, waving my hand as I left.

"Tch, that could've gone better," I mumbled in annoyance.

When I entered my apartment, Namie was there, grumbling over Mika and Seiji like usual.

"Hello, Namie-channn!" I said obnoxiously.

"...Great, you're back," Was her only response.

"Is someone on their period...?" I snarked.

"Shut up, Orihara, you wouldn't know about that stuff."

'Maybe I do,' I thought darkly before flopping down on my chair, booting up my laptop. "Shizu-chan's as annoying as ever."

"Don't you have a heart?" Namie snarked. Insulting me was her only pastime.

"Of course. Doesn't everyone? I'm not that bad of a person," I said softly.

She looked at me, perplexed by my sad look. "You're pathetic," She said, before she left me by myself.

"This is the part that sucks," I grumbled, spinning in my chair, "In my old life, I had lots of friends. Now I'm just Izaya, an informant. Alone."

As I did so, I turned my attention back to my cell phone, continuing where I'd left off, typing up the rest of my story quickly.


In my past life, I had been a female by the name of Lucia; just a college student who dreamed of becoming a writer and making a difference in society. I had been just an ordinary kid, with a snarky mouth, a tomboyish streak, and a habit of starting trouble. I was always somewhat of a troll.

I had loved watching anime, my favorites being Gundam, Magi, Naruto, Blue Exorcist, and of course, Durarara.

However, Izaya had been my least favorite character. I had hated his attitude and his egotism.

"Life is ironic, isn't it?" I mumbled, playing with my ring.

I had been an ordinary college student, with ordinary parents and a nice family. Not that my family now wasn't nice-if a bit eccentric, but I missed my old life badly. Back then, I'd had dear friends who cared about me. Back then, I wasn't a criminal fighting for his life all the time.

Oh, well, the past is the past, and it can't be changed.

So, like I said...my death in the past had been caused by a vending machine. Ironic, isn't it? How did a vending machine kill me, an ordinary kid and send me to this anime? Well, here's your answer.

It all started on an ordinary day on the college campus. An ordinary, hot summer, and then everything ended for me, Lucia. It was fortunately over very quick.

"Honestly, Lucia, you're so slow," My friend, Carmen said, keeping a close pace with my other friend, Iris. They were both very athletic, whereas I was not and very slow.

I rolled my eyes. "I'd kill for a drink right now." I mumbled as we headed to the vending machines, jingling our cash in our pockets.

"Dude, this reminds me of how Shizuo and Izaya fight." Carmen muttered as she put in her dollar bill and withdrew a Coke.

"Oh yeah, don't you think so, Lucia?" Iris asked, taking out a Dr. Pepper.

I fiddled around in my pockets for a few moments, pulling out a dollar bill and tucking my brown hair back with my fingers. "Yeah...though I hate Izaya. Can you stop bringing him up?" I pushed my dollar bill into the machine and blinked when it didn't work. I pressed the button again.

Nothing came out.

"I think it's broken," I said, pushing it again. I reached inside it and tried to grab my drink.

"Lucia...forget about it and let's go!" Carmen urged.

"Maybe you should pretend it's Izaya and demand it gives you your drink! Kick it!" Iris said.

"You guys...stop." I growled, gritting my teeth. "I'm wasting a good five dollars here! I'll be damned if I let it take me from my drink!" I came closer to it, sticking my hand in it and trying to pull the drink out, then retracted my hand.

Suddenly, a gust of wind blew in our direction and the machine swayed, causing me to spin backwards as I landed on my back.

"Lucia, look out!" Carmen cried.

I barely had time to register...anything before I saw the stupid machine falling towards me...and then, it landed on me with a loud crash...and everything went black. I heard my friends scream my name and then silence.

'I'm dead...aren't I? Too bad...I could've lived a long life and now it's all over like this...' I thought darkly.

"You can live again,' A new voice said, distinctly male.

I turned around, in time to see my favorite character standing near me, was it...Jack Vessalius? He looked at me and smirked. It was him, the long blond ponytail and green eyes were unmistakable.

"You can live again, Lucia. Rebirth is a possibility. If you're reborn, you can see them again. However, it's not likely things will turn out like you want."

"What do you mean?" I cried. "I want to live again."

Jack smirked, extending his gloved hand. "...Like how Oz and Alice got their happy ending, you can achieve yours...a certain world is calling to you. A world you love so much. However, do not expect your destiny to be easy. Your new life will be...quite different from your old. Are you prepared for that risk?"

A glowing light surrounded me as he touched my arm.

"Of course!" I cried, as suddenly everything went black.

I heard him whisper, "Good luck...Lucia, or shall I say...soon to be...Izaya? Let's see how she reacts to this.'


Of course, at the time I didn't question why on earth a manga character had been standing before me. I was dead, okay? And in all retrospect, why would I trust Jack's words? I was too busy fangirling, I guess.

Darkness enveloped me. I could not move, no matter how hard I tried. Then, a bright, blinding light overtook me, and suddenly I could see again.

Where was I?

I was suddenly lifted into the air by someone...how could they lift me? Was it a paramedic?

It was a woman with dark hair, smiling at me gently. Was she...Asian?

She was speaking Japanese. But oddly enough, I understood it.

"...Here is your newborn baby, Mrs. Orihara Kyouko." A male voice said.

Baby? Newborn? I blinked in confusion, trying to process my surroundings, but the lights were so bright and...I really couldn't move. Trying to move made me feel like jelly. What was happening here? Was I being experimented on by aliens?

I attempted to speak, but all that came out of my lips was a wail. A wail? What the hell?

The lady put her face near mine, and touched my chin.

"Hello there, my son. You look just like your mommy. You have such pretty red eyes, like me. But you have the hair of your father, too." She was touching me and raking her hands through my hair.

Someone call the police, this kidnapper is trying to harass me! Get your hands off me, lady! Hands off!

All I did was wail instead. Every time I tried to open my mouth, I could not speak.

'Baby...what the fuck is this woman going on about? I'm not a baby, and I'm definitely not a boy. I'm a college student, woman.'

My gaze went down to my fingers. When were my fingers so small, short and tiny? My stomach was smaller, my head felt bigger than I remembered it being and strands of curly dark hair rested near my eyes.

I continued bawling, totally confused and scared. Was I really a baby?

"Oh, did we scare him? I'm sorry! What should we name him?" The woman said, turning to her husband.

God, why was everyone so huge? Had I shrunken?

Holy shit. I was a baby.

What the hell.

I fell asleep from exhaustion, so I didn't hear this little snippet of dialogue.

"...I think Orihara...how about Orihara Izaya? That sounds like a good name for him."

Several months later, I was still stuck in a crib, teething, and learning how to walk. Stuck wearing diapers, being breastfed. Which I hated. It was boring, not to mention utterly annoying.

"Come here, my son. It's time for bathtime."

Son? I was still convinced that this woman was crazy. I was a female, no matter if I was a baby. I pouted, folding my arms.

"...Now, now, we can't have you acting that way, Iza-chan!"

Iza-chan was what she called me often, so I found myself wondering if my name was a name like Isabel or Isabella. Iza-chan sounded feminine enough. Did the Japanese like names like Isabel or Isabella, though?

I was lifted out of the crib, pouting as I did so.

"Now, now, Iza-chan, relax. Bath time is fun."

I shook my head no, in defiance. She patted my head and got me undressed, and placed me in the bathtub, surrounded by toys. To a normal baby, this would be fun, but to an adult in a baby's body, this bored me. I shook my head as she washed my hair and lathered me up with soap.

"Now, honey, be careful. We have to be especially careful to not get your wee-wee all covered in soap. It's a delicate part of your body, right, honey? Mommy doesn't understand that, since she's not a boy like you are-"

Wait, what did she just say? Wee-wee?

I watched as she lathered me, and then I glanced down at my legs as I sat in the water, and let out a cry. For what I saw between my legs was not a lady part at all...it was...it was...

A penis. I had a penis.

I shook my head, praying that it was a dream.

But the penis was still there the next time I looked.

I was...I was a boy.

Reeling from this horrifying discovery, I cried again.

"Iza-chan, relax! You're going to get your hair washed, now be a man and stop crying. Come on."

As she dried me off and dressed me back up, I stared at my new appendage in horror. Why was I a male now? This was awkward, why hadn't fate let me know this important fact?

"Iza-kun, you know...you'll be able to talk soon. Tell mama what your first word is." She said as she had me downstairs, in my high chair.

This was embarrassing as hell.

I shook my head in defiance.

"Already so smart. Come on. Tell me what your first word is...Iza-kun."

"Yes, come on, Iza-kun, tell Daddy." My father said.

Iza-kun?

"Come on, won't you tell mommy what your first word is...? Izaya-kun, what's wrong? Are you not feeling well?" She said, feeling my forehead, "Does wittle Izaya-kun have a fever?"

I froze. What had she just said? She had to be kidding, right? Yeah, it's just a coincidence.

"...Earth to my little son, Izaya-kun! Are you all right, Izaya? Don't you know your own name, Izaya-kun?" She said teasingly, prodding me.

Dread was filling my heart now as I stared up at her, eyes wide.

Did she just say what I thought she had said?

"...Izaya-kun, you have a spot of food on your face. Let Mommy wipe it off for you." She said, turning my high chair toward the mirror on the wall so I could see where she was wiping me off at. As she put the napkin against my face, I stared into the mirror, and my eyes widened as I took in my reflection.

A dark-haired woman with auburn eyes was standing over me. But that wasn't the shocking thing. A tiny young boy sat in a high chair. But...that face...I knew that face.

Strands of raven hair hung in the baby boy's face, his hair it was quite pointed and spiky. He had pale skin and an angular face. But the boy looking back at me had bright red eyes. Black hair...red eyes? My god...

I knew that face too well.

I turned to face my mother.

"...Izaya-kun...Izaya? What's your first word as part of the Orihara family?"

I couldn't speak. I froze, dropping my spoon out of my hands where it clattered on the floor.

The little black-haired boy in the mirror...that was...Izaya. Izaya Orihara.

But Izaya was...Izaya was a fictional character. A fictional character in Durarara.

I looked around for Izaya, but when I turned back around, baby Izaya was still staring back at me. I examined my hands, noticing Izaya doing the same. My hair was black.

In other words...I was Izaya Orihara?

"Izaya?"

"...I'm tired." I said.

"You're tired? Those are your first words, Iza-kun?" She said, scooping me up and taking me to my crib, heedless of my babbling on.

"...Mama, I'm not tired...I'm not...Izaya...not me..."

"Of course you're my son, Izaya!" She teased.

Well, wasn't this grand.

I wasn't just reborn as any kid. I was Izaya fucking Orihara.

The life ahead of me looked so grand.

An informant, a sociopath. Oh yeah, and I'll have freaking vending machines hurled at me.

This looks great.

Being Izaya wasn't all that bad.

At least, until I got to high school, then it got unbearable.

Even walking through the door to school was a pain in the ass.

"Hey, look, it's Orihara."

"Stay away from him, he's a bad guy."

"He's kinda cute."

"Don't you know when to shut your mouths?" I hissed, causing them to freeze.

Stupid teenagers. I gritted my teeth as I headed to my class.

Although, the worst part about being a boy...was in going to the wrong bathroom.

"It's hot as hell..." I muttered, as I headed to the girls' room, prepared to change for gym class.

I pushed the door open.

Then I realized...there were girls, in nothing but bras and skirts...talking and laughing.

I realized my mistake as I got a nosebleed and stared at them, wide-eyed.

"Orihara's kinda cute, at least he's not a jerk-"

The girls froze as they took in me standing there.

It was then that it registered on me that I was a guy now.

"KYAAAA! THERE'S A BOY IN HERE! PERVERT!" The girls shrieked, throwing their hairbrushes at me as I dodged, my face beet red.

"It was a mistake, girls, I swear!"

WHAP!

A purse hit me on the head.

"This violence is unnecessary!" I protested as they threw more things at me.

"GET OUT, ORIHARA! TO THINK I LIKED YOU, YOU'RE A PERVERT!"

I smirked. "A pervert, am I?" I said, holding up one of their purses and dumping it out. "...There's some neat stuff in here."

I spotted a cell phone. "Ooh, nice. I think I'll take it, maybe stomp on it?"

"ORIHARA, GIVE IT BACK!"

"All right," I said, putting everything back and throwing it in her direction. Only I miscalculated my aim and hit her in the face.

"Whoops, sorry~my mistake," I said sarcastically as I charged out the door.

"ORIHARA IZAYA, YOU'RE SO DEAD!" The crowd of girls behind me screamed as I ran for my life into the boys' locker room.

The boys couldn't stop laughing. The boys actually started hanging out with me more.

But it was in high school that I met Shizuo.

And all went to hell, no doubt.

Why, oh why did things have to play out like canon?

"This is Shizuo-kun. Shizuo, I'd like you to meet my friend. He's a bit of an asshole."

Yawn. Boring canon dialogue.

"...Shinra, that's mean," I pouted.

"Well, it's the truth," He said.

"I'm Izaya Orihara, pleasure to meet you, Shizu-chan. You're so strong...it's so interesting." I extended my hand out, intending to befriend him. I mean, I didn't want to fight him. Are you kidding me? I liked Shizuo's character. Wouldn't it be nice to have a story where Izaya and Shizuo are just friends?

I shipped Shizaya, too, but that had nothing to do with it.

Even if I'm Izaya, it doesn't mean I have to be a douchebag.

He didn't accept my hand. He glared at me.

"...I don't like you. You piss me off."

"...Is that so? And here I was being nice, Shizu-chan." I said, shrugging my shoulders as a smile danced on my face.

"Stop calling me that! My name is Shizuo!" He screamed, charging at me.

Any ordinary person would be terrified.

But I was aware of what would come next, as I lazily dodged. Thank god I was more athletic now. I whipped out my blade in boredom, attacking Shizuo. The act saddened me. I really didn't want to hurt him.

But he had chosen to hate me first. So, was it okay to embrace this role?

I barely registered what I'd done until I saw blood pouring from a cut on Shizuo's shirt. I froze, looking shocked. Why had I done that?

"You bastard!" He snarled.

I didn't know what to say for a few moments, until I found my voice, acting so callous and high and mighty was unlike me. Yet, it seemed to come naturally. It scared me.

"...See, we're having fun now, aren't we...Shizu-chan?" I said, coldly, smirking as I did so. Why did this feel so right and yet wrong at the same time?

"Izaya, stop!" Shinra cried.

But the fight began.

Ah, yes, classic times, classic times.

As I continued my work, I paused when I remembered that I had to see someone today.

Someone who hated me very much.

Who didn't hate Izaya?

The doorbell rang, and a blond kid stood there, glaring at me.

"Hello, Masaomi-kun," I said sarcastically.

He glared at me as he pushed past me. "Hello, Izaya. I didn't want to come here."

"Yet you came here anyway." I snarked, causing his face to flush red.

Teasing Masaomi was always so fun.