Author's Note: Hello all! I suppose I should forewarn you here and say that this is indeed my first fan fiction so please go easy on me ^^' Critiques are welcome but please make sure to keep them in good taste (read: don't be rude). So I've loved Durarara! for quite some time now and I've finally decided to write a fic. Hopefully things will turn out swimmingly and I don't lose inspiration half-way through. My goal is to keep everyone as in character as possible despite the world being AU so good luck to me I suppose. I suppose that's all for now! If all goes well my updates won't take forever, but we all know life gets in the way. Ah, but here I am rambling. I'll shut up now. Enjoy~!

Ikebukuro: a strange and ever restless city that watches its inhabitants go about their lives and occasionally plays with them like a child plays with a favorite toy. This city is curious, playful, and even cheeky at times as its inhabitants go about their far from usual lives and eke out an existence for themselves.

Well, this is no longer the case.

The city is…sick.

Ikebukuro is fighting an infection that makes it a shadow of its former glory. Gone are the tall, beautiful buildings that give the city its industrious shine. Gone are the people hustling and bustling from one destination to another as they attempt to find themselves and the meaning of their existence without getting lost in the crowd. Gone is everything that makes Ikebukuro, well, Ikebukuro.

Perhaps gone is much too bleak of a word. The buildings and people are not gone per se; they are simply in an entirely different state than previously mentioned. Oh the buildings are still there—some of them anyway—but they are in such a pitiful state. Their foundations are precarious and their exteriors are heavily damaged. They do not shine with the life of business, but rather with a melancholy glow of disuse. They are dirty, abandoned, and…lifeless.

The people are no better off than the buildings that surround them. In fact they seem to resemble their surroundings just as much as their surroundings resemble them. The people of Ikebukuro are dirty, abandoned by the rest of Japan, and lifeless.

So indeed, Ikebukuro is sick and it's an infection that affects everyone.

What is it sick from? Oppression.

Ikebukuro, the city of freedom—freedom of normality—is oppressed and it is an unnatural thing. It is a horrid virus that needs to be purged and what better way to do so than to use its inhabitants to cure the disease?

So pick up your weapons antibodies of Ikebukuro, it is time to resist.

It is time for war.

[I hear your beloved humans are getting restless, that talk of resistance is becoming more than just talk.]

[Is that so?]

[Indeed. So what are you going to do about it?]

[Me? Why nothing. What makes you think that I would lift a finger? I am but an observer after all.]

[Your tendency to observe is to do more than just observe, Orihara.]

[Ne, ne, you know me so well! But really, I have nothing to gain by interfering. If my humans wish to resist, then so be it. It will only lead to more entertainment for me, which is something I won't complain about.]

[Awakusu-kai won't have such a laid back attitude.]

[Then I suppose things will get interesting really soon, ne?]

[Indeed. How will things go, I wonder? Hmmm…the more I think about it the more I realize I will be in a similar state of mind as you, which is quite scary. I must be chatting with you too much if you are starting to rub off on me. No! Next thing you know I'll be spouting nonsense like loving people and obsessing over a certain blonde in bartender suit that I refuse to acknowledge I have a complex for!]

[…]

[Don't tell me I'm wrong, Orihara. I am never wrong.]

[You're wrong.]

Izaya logged of with an angry click of the mouse that he was sorely tempted to throw into the screen. But what good would such an action do? It would only inconvenience him while he waited for Namie to get him a new computer, which would mean he would have to postpone his work—something he couldn't do. Not to mention, knowing the cold hearted woman she would probably buy the cheapest computer out there just to get her kicks and watch him silently seethe. So it was best he kept his composure and let Tsukumoya Shinichi's words roll right off of him. He had gained something out of their conversation, something besides irritation. Knowing that things were really starting to boil in Ikebukuro was useful to him if only as something to pass on to Shiki.

Izaya slowly swiveled back and forth in his chair with his arms crossed while he stared at the screen before him. There wasn't anything to look at considering the only thing the monitor showed was his very generic black desktop, but Izaya was looking through the computer rather than at it. If things were starting to progress, should he mention something to Shiki? How Awakusu-kai ruled and maintained their position over all of Ikebukuro was hardly his concern, but the coming events could quite easily affect him even without his consent. His role as an observer could quickly come to an end if he wasn't careful.

Ever since Awakusu-kai's new head ordered the immediate domination of Ikebukuro, Izaya had managed to pull off his balancing act as a neutral observer who continued to give out information to the highest bidder. It was something that grew increasingly difficult as soon Ikebukuro's inhabitants became impoverished and enslaved while Awakusu-kai became ever wealthy. In no time at all the only people who could afford Izaya were of Awakusu-kai which began to lead them to believe that they owned Izaya. The man himself never actually made a comment on the situation, but he was fully aware of how his position was viewed as opposed to the reality of it. Izaya was owned by nobody. He was a free entity. Not like such a thing made much of a difference. Awakusu didn't look at reality unless it suited them, and when it came to Izaya, the impression was far more beneficial to their needs.

So what move would benefit him the most? If he said nothing and things continued to progress, not only would that piss off Awakusu-kai because he had neglected to mention something—not like he was obligated to hand out free information, but there was that acting on impression thing again—but he could also end up dragged into the battle, and Izaya knew he was a hands off kind of guy when it came to such things. He liked to observe outside of the net, not be there when shit hit the fan. If he did decide to say something, not only would that further strengthen the organization's assumptions that they owned him, but it would also put him in exactly that position anyway.

"Tricky, tricky," Izaya muttered to himself with a smirk. Well he had time to wait, he supposed. He knew the humans who lived in Ikebukuro and they wouldn't be able to form a resistance movement quite so fast. Creating a revolution took time and planning—it wasn't something that could just spontaneously appear, ready to take on an entire organization, after a bit of talk.

Well he wouldn't admit this later, but he was wrong on one account, the more important one of course. The resistance was a lot closer than he thought seeing as the people, the antibodies, of Ikebukuro had long since been planning to retake their city and free themselves of the disease of oppression the Awakusu-kai had forced upon them.