Hey, Cari here!~This is a really sudden story I just HAD to write. I woke up from a really crazy and amazing dream I had, and I just had to write a fanfiction based on it. So I hope you like this! :)
Rain pattered softly onto the cold concrete of the street. People ran to duck under the awnings of stores, and opened their umbrella's to stop the rain from soaking them. Slowly, the rain grew heavier, and fell faster.
A man stood alone in the street, the rain soaking his parka as it washed away the blood and grit of a deadly scuffle. The water stung at his wounds, washing away the evidence of a murder he had wanted to commit for years.
He looked up to the sky, his dark hair clinging to his face, as rain, blood, and tears mingled and dripped down his cheek. He smiled, victorious, as the ringing in his ears grew. The sound of sirens in the distance grew closer as a bystander finally called the police.
An ambulance came onto the scene. Medics rushed past him to check on the body lying on his back. Blood pooled out from under the corpse, mixing with the icy water that soaked his already cold and lifeless form.
This sad, cold, October night started off like any normal evening.
Only hours earlier, the sun was shining dimly as it hung low in the sky. The bright star basked the city in a orange glow, and although some clouds hung low in the sky, threatening to rain, the evening was beautiful. Light twinkled in the buildings, and the street lamps were flickering on, as Ikebukuro's streets were filled with people wandering around for late night strolls. All was peaceful.
Walking down the streets, a seemingly normal trio walked huddled in a group. The blonde haired leader gossiped on about some girls from school, and teased his best friend (a boy with shirt black hair) about crushing on their friend (a girl with scarlet eyes, black hair, and a nice pair of tits). The boy and girl in question walked behind him, just listening silently as their cheeks dusted pink from the attention.
They passed by a local restaurant, which was strangely popular to the residents of this bustling city. They glanced inside, the young girl mentioning that she'd like to try something new to eat. They eagerly walked up to the door, greeted by a large, black, Russian man, but the blonde saw someone he would rather not run into eating inside. He stopped, and coaxed his friends away to eat somewhere else. Something about a new place that opened up down the street. After some time, the brunette's reluctantly followed the bubbly blonde away.
Inside, the man whom the blonde didn't want to talk to was eating alone in the corner of the store. The fringe hood of his jacket was pulled over his head, hiding his face from the crowd, although it didn't do much for hiding him. That jacket was easily recognizable to those who knew him. His narrow claret eyes scanned over the restaurant slowly, observing the people that filled the tables.
Smiling, the brunette under the hood picked up his plump ootoro, letting the juices dribble down his fingers a bit, before plopping the fatty tuna into his mouth. He hummed with delight and shivered slightly with joy as it melted on his tongue. He lapped the juices on his fingertips and smiled, as he reached for another slice.
"I-Za-Ya. You like sushi, yes? It good?"
The brunette looked up at the sound of his name. He saw the chef of the restaurant standing above him, his smile grinning from ear to ear. It was the same man from outside, who had beckoned to the trio who walked past. Izaya smiled back at the peace loving man; a happy mask he was used to pulling out.
"Hello there, Simon." he replied.
"You no get into trouble today?" Simon asked, a serious undertone in his voice as he smiled and cleaned up Izaya's mess. Izaya plopped the last of his meal into his mouth and stood up, wiping his hands on a napkin.
"I wasn't planning on it…I'm serious this time, Simon! You have no trust in me?" Izaya replied with a mock frown when Simon gave him a look of doubt.
"You are not the most trust worthy person in Ikebukuro, Izaya." Simon responded in his native tongue, his thick Russian accent obscuring his Japanese way of speaking. "Just be careful. I would not like to see any blood shed today."
Izaya sighed and grinned, "I can assure you, I was not planning on anything dastardly today." He responded fluently in Russian, stepping beside Simon as he headed toward the door. "Have a good day, Simon!~" He called back, speaking in Japanese once more. Simon shook his head and went back to work, as the information broker skipped out into the bustling streets.
He sighed happily, skipping along. He loved to be in this throng of humans. He loved them all, loved observing and manipulating and controlling them. Each person was his puppet to use for his own show. For his own game.
There was only one, whom he loathed. One whom he couldn't control.
Izaya narrowed his eyes when the wind picked up, ruffling the fur on his hood, as he stared past the cars and people, and saw a familiar mop of blonde hair. A devious smirk graced his lips.