For Ayrea
Little Pink Dress
Izaya Orihara was unfortunate.
His dearest grandmother believed that Izaya was a little girl. She suffered from Alzheimer's, bless her kind soul, and would often refer back to the days when Izaya liked to play dress-up with the cute dresses that had been given to his twin sisters.
She was also a gift-giver, and often sent her family gifts from her deathbed. And Izaya cherished every one of them, knowing his grandmother's intentions were true. She was only human, after all.
But this time, she had sent him a dress. A frilly dress, complete with a ribbon (that he assumed was to be tied around his head). The gentle pink, spotted with more pink, stood out stark against the plain box she had sent him. Izaya had expected more cookies or a knit sweater, but nope. A dress. Izaya Orihara had been given a dress.
He held it up against his body. The sleeves, which he guessed were supposed to be long, would reach just above his elbows. The frilly collar seemed as though it could choke anyone under the age of 5. His grandma definitely thought he was a little girl.
Izaya sighed, thinking of his sweet grandmother. Stripping down to his boxers, and after much struggling, he managed to put the thing on. He found himself choking on the collar, and pulling the dress down so it would at least cover something other than things that didn't need to be.
He sighed once more. The things he would do for his beloved humans…
But his feminine side squealed in joy. He suddenly felt the urge to prance around Ikebukuro in his little frilly dress, and proudly show it off to his monster. If he wasn't busy trying to rip off Izaya's head, of course.
The door opened- without a knock, Izaya might add- to reveal Namie, holding another box. After an awkward silence followed by a stare down, in which a gay baby was born, the disturbed secretary carelessly threw the box on his bed. He heard her mumble something incoherent before she slammed the door in his face, muttering something along the lines of freak and child-molester. Some humans weren't as great as others…
He ripped the tape off of his new package, revealing small shoes to go with the dress. He picked up the tiny things, examining the cute little bows and pink spotted design. If Izaya Orihara was in fact a little girl, he imagined he would be ecstatic; jumping up and down in sheer excitement, twirling around in circles so his pretty, frilly dress could be swished back and forth. But because the information broker was indeed a grown man, he felt no such joy towards these gifts.
Oh, Grandma…
The End~