Shizuo was pissed. Why the fuck he had decided to take the eight am class was beyond him. But, it was the only one that was available other than one at seven pm, and that's when he was supposed to be working at the fucking convenience store.
But damn, was it really worth it to have to get up so early?
It might also be worth mentioning that this was Shizuo's second month in the class. Yes, his second month. And he was still complaining about the time. Some things never change.
But, Shizuo did have one thing that always seemed to salvage his morning: he always got the window desk, the one that ensured that you could relax with sunlight spilling on you, or sit alert as a lecture played out in front of you. It was perfect.
Sure, it made Shizuo feel like some kind of anime protagonist, but he loved it, and it had taken him a damn lot of work during the first week to secure it. He'd had to establish his reputation very quickly, using various threats and punches in order to convey to all the students that that desk was his and everyone else should back the fuck off.
And everyone listened to him. Out of fear, probably, but they still listened. So Shizuo was happy.
He made his way towards that very desk right now, not really looking where he was going as he was answering a text. He dropped his bag roughly on the floor next to his desk without looking up from his phone.
Where's the damn L letter…
Shizuo grasped the back of his chair and pulled it out, pocketing his phone when—
"Oomph!"
Shizuo leaped back, dropping his phone in the process. Something heavy had just dropped! Look around wildly first, it took Shizuo about half a second to realize that no, idiot, nothing was dropping from the ceiling. So he finally looked downwards, at his desk, to see a crumple of black hair and clothes sitting where his chair should be.
"What the fuck—" Shizuo started, but before he could say anything else, the person—it was a boy, now that Shizuo could see his face—had stood up, pulled the chair back to himself, and sat down again. This ignited a fire within Shizuo. Who the fuck was this person, taking his desk?!
"That was very rude, Nobody-kun," The boy said, brushing his pants off daintily and glaring at Shizuo. Shizuo noticed that he was wearing black skinny jeans… Was he goth or something? His eyes even had a reddish tint to them.
But, whatever. Shizuo wanted to fight this person, not speculate on whether they were goth or not. So he shoved his face into the other's and snarled, "I'm being rude?! That's my chair you're sitting in!"
The boy looked extremely uninterested, even yawning slightly. "I think you'll find that you're mistaken…" He craned his neck to look at Shizuo's backpack, which had his name stitched into the side, "…Shizu-chan. In college, we don't have assigned seats!"
Shizuo could feel his quick temper getting the better of him, but this guy was really pissing him off! Didn't he know that this was Shizuo's seat; had been for two months?!
"I know that!" Shizuo hissed, reaching a hand up to snag the asshole's collar. "But I've been sitting here since the start of the semester! It's my fucking desk."
Izaya sighed, a haughty, exasperated, I-don't-have-time-for-this sigh that made Shizuo's blood boil. How dare this little—this little flea treat him like a fucking inconvenience when he was the one inconveniencing Shizuo?!
"Shizu-chan—" He started, but Shizuo cut him off with a threatening growl.
"Do not call me that."
The boy raised an eyebrow, a smirk breaking out on his features. It made him look like Satan, if Shizuo was to be honest.
"Shizu-chan," He said more forcefully, almost purring the name. Shizuo's skin prickled. "Once again, I'll remind you that colleges don't have assigned seats! Whoever gets here first gets the seat. You were just too slow~"
Shizuo's self control snapped. Raising his fist, he growled, "You little fucking flea—"
"Heiwajima-kun!"
Shizuo froze just before his fist connected with the flea's (fucking still smirking) face. He looked up, quickly realizing that the teacher and the majority of the class was staring at him. Feeling his face heat up, Shizuo released the boy and turned towards the teacher.
"S…Sorry," He muttered, casting his eyes downwards. The teacher glared at him disapprovingly.
"Please take your seat, Heiwajima-kun," She said menacingly, nodding towards a desk in the back of the room. Shizuo gaped at her in disbelief for a moment before violently snatching up his bag and stalking to the back seat, fuming the whole way. He sat down roughly and kept his eyes glued to the desk, trying to ignore the breathy sound from the window seat that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.
He was going to get that bastard if it was the last thing he did. Nobody took his seats and got away with it.
.
Shizuo learned during role call that the boy that he had just taken to calling 'flea' was actually named Izaya—Izaya Orihara. The name suited him, Shizuo thought. It was very sharp and pointy sounding, and Izaya seemed like a very sharp and pointy kind of person.
Try as he might to concentrate on the lecture going on in front of him, Shizuo found his eyes repeatedly wandering longingly back to his lost seat, where Izaya sat diligently taking notes.
Ugh. Shizuo thought. He's the studious type.
Lazily tracing Izaya's form with his eyes, Shizuo wondered where he had come from. He surely hadn't been here for the first two months; Shizuo was positive he would've noticed him. He had a commanding presence about him—one that said "look at me, but stay away." Shizuo would've noticed his aura.
Chewing on his pencil tip, Shizuo thought that this stuff didn't really matter anyway. He just wanted to give Izaya a stern warning—to not sit in his seat anymore, thank you—and be rid of the flea as soon as possible. Something about Izaya irked him…He wasn't sure what. Maybe their personalities just weren't compatible.
Shizuo was suddenly jerked out of his stupor as students around him began rising from their seats. Sitting up and looking around, Shizuo realized that class must, in fact, be over. Blinking in mild confusion, Shizuo gathered his things and stood, locking his sights on Izaya, who was also packing up. He made a beeline right for the raven.
Before Shizuo had even done anything to get Izaya's attention, Izaya sighed and, without turning to look behind him, said, "Shizu-chan, now really, do you actually want to start trouble for me on my first day?"
He turned around, slinging his bag over his shoulder and offering Shizuo his best piteous look. Shizuo wasn't buying it.
"Yeah, I do," He said, taking a step closer. "Because you started trouble for me on my sixtieth day."
"Sixty-second day!" Izaya corrected, grinning. "Term started sixty-two days ago, not sixty."
Shizuo's eyes sparked rage again, and he sneered. "Shut the fuck up, flea." He lunged at Izaya…
…And was met with air. Shizuo's arms had encircled nothing but air. Frantically straightening himself, Shizuo whipped his head around to see Izaya behind him. He gaped. No one had evaded a punch from him before.
"Ah-ah-ah!" Izaya sing-songed from his place behind Shizuo. "A bit too slow there. Maybe next time!"
That really irked Shizuo. Roaring with fury, he lunged again and missed again; his arms flung through air as Izaya jumped, laughing, to the side, nearer to the door.
"Catch me if you can, Shizu-chan!" He said, his eyes alight with excitement. He then bolted out the door, cackling the whole way. Shizuo didn't need to be told twice, and immediately took off after him.
And so began the infamous Shizuo-Izaya rivalry of Tokyo University. Or, as some were more prone to call it…Shizaya.
A/N: Hello, Shizaya community! My name is Kida. Nice to meet you. Yeah, if you look at my previous stories, this one's a bit different but...Oh well. I've grown and matured. It's Shizaya time. Maybe? That's actually up to you guys! I'll probably upload a second chapter regardless, but if you'd like me to continue this, I'd appreciate it if you would leave me a review, or maybe even follow the story. The number of those I get will decide if/when I update! So yeah. Thanks for reading!