Raijin was like the road nobody traveled.

At least, it was to us – the students of the Raira complex. It was an unsaid fact that we thought we were superior. It wasn't false – surely, we were the ones that paid to learn there, and we were the ones that put our overworked brains to test during the entrance exam. To us, the Raijin students were just the normal ones – the typical city students that didn't care about their future.

You don't notice it, but there's gossip flying about the hallways of the complex every day. The Raira students certainly thought themselves superior, as most of this heresy had focused on the misadventures of the Raijin students. That kid did this to that kid, he did that to her, they did this, we did that…

It certainly wore me out after a while.

The worst part about housing both schools in the same building was the fights that went on every day. They would start in the schoolyard of the Raijin side, and slowly make its way over to Raira, breaking windows and smashing doors. They were alarming at first and worked everybody into a panic. But after a week or so, it became a fact of life and everybody had learned how to tune it out.

The fights were interesting, I have to admit. Sure, seeing the reaction of everybody – initially, it was fear, now it was just an eye-rolling annoyance – was fun, and seeing the damage done afterwards – surprisingly inhuman – was also rather intriguing, but the two perpetrators were the most amusing to watch. One couldn't even tell why they were fighting – clearly, they hated each other to the death, but their fights never started over an argument. It always started with one of them suddenly provoking the other, and it went on until they decided that they were bored. The rest of the students suddenly changed their path every time they walked by them, and I must admit that I did too, but I couldn't help but watch curiously.

Their names were Orihara Izaya and Heiwajima Shizuo. Just from hearing their names, you realize how strange they were – just from looking at their names on the roster, it took me a while to be able to comprehend "Izaya" as a name, and Heiwajima is as uncharacteristic of the boy as calling a gun a weapon of peace would be. Then again, my own name isn't too ordinary either – Kato Izuko; Kato as in wisteria, something that should have been my first name. Izuko is a geisha's name, so archaic that it took my homeroom teacher a few seconds longer than normal to be able to read it. But names never say much about the person that grew underneath it, did they?

Izaya seemed like the perfect student, however. He had dark hair and eyes, pale skin, and was tall and slim. He was studious in his works and kept his uniform buttoned neatly and ironed. He spoke formally, even when provoking Shizuo, and was handsome, but that didn't really help much. His parents were wealthy – I remember meeting them at countless auctions and purposely steering clear of their odd son. If so, why wasn't he here, but instead at Raijin? Clearly, he himself could get better than that.

I later learned that his parents enrolled him there because they wanted to save money so that they could send him overseas for college; a good choice, because everyone wanted him as far away from them as possible.

I don't know much about Shizuo at all. He seems like a senior, and not a sophomore, which is odd, because he's younger than I, who was a junior. He has this inhuman strength, clearly seen from his flinging tables and breaking walls. Even so, one can't see that through his physical body – during physical education with the sophomores, I notice that Shizuo doesn't have much notable muscle – sure, he was a lot more athletic than the other boys, but he wasn't one of those body trainer-types. It makes me wonder how he gets that strength. Maybe he takes substances? He's clearly the delinquent, considering his bad rap for throwing furniture and that blond hair of his. I never really bothered looking too closely at him for fear he might take it the wrong way.

So that's how I lived my life – in slight intimidation, in slight awe. Everything else went smoothly – I had my group of friends, my stereotypically insane best friend, and my kind and loving boyfriend. In a world like this where everybody is selfish and cares only for themselves, it seemed as if I was pretty set.

I wanted to stay that way.

It was all fine until I got the phone call that plunged me head-first into the fight.