Greetings! Alright this is a more polished (dear god I hope so at least) version of "Let's All Go to Heaven". I was unhappy with the previous version and the more I thought about it, the more I realized there were inconsistencies with characters and plot. I'm going to try to do better here but damn, I'm terrified I'm going to muck it all up and write myself into a hole like I did with the last one. Also, I should apologize to the readers and subscribers of the other story; I'm really sorry to have stopped that story as I have but I felt I needed to, and I hope you guys can understand my reasoning. And now that I have bared my insecurities to you guys I hope you enjoy even if it's just a little.
Anyway, I don't own Durarara or any of the characters therein.
-Chapter 1-
A white rook went sailing across the desk with a flick of a finger and smacked the large window with a tiny clink of sound, the piece no longer of any immediate use to the broker as he leaned grinning over his board. The first move in his latest game was done, one of the smaller gang's leaders now safely in custody as of a few minutes ago. Now the stage was set for his next move. Who would it be next though? The Razors? Maybe the Crimson Heads? There were so many possibilities, endless variations and encounters between the remaining gangs. It was enough to make him giddy. But that could come later when the real fun began.
"Namie, pick a number," Izaya ordered in glee, involving his secretary just to shake things up. "One through seven."
She didn't look up from her thick book of newspaper clippings; she wasn't looking for anything in particular, he knew that, but that wouldn't stop her from denying her employer an answer. Fine, the decision could wait a few minutes if she didn't want to play.
"No fun at all," he chuckled lowly and swiveled on his stool to face the rest of his apartment.
The television was on across the room, a news report on a small fire started by the Rose Raiders in north Ikebukuro just finishing up before a commercial break. When the advertisements for a new resort and three different snacks had finished, the news flared back to life and footage of the arrest not ten minutes ago played. Even from that angle he could see Kuzuhara hauling off Kido Yanagisuwa, leader of the Purple Stripes, who was struggling and rambling angrily about being framed. Too bad for him it didn't matter that that was true, Izaya just needed him to be shoved aside long enough for all the Purple Stripes' territory to go up for grabs. He strode to the television and flipped it off when the idiot reporter covering the story declared that the recent muggings and attacks in that part of the city would stop.
It was true the attacks by the Purple Stripes would stop; the little group would soon fall apart without its precious leader and would no longer pose a threat. But it was all the other gangs that the city needed to worry about now, the ones he'd convinced to be more low-key than the hot headed Yanagisuwa's group.
With just a bit of his influence, Izaya had made sure the Stripes had forcibly wedged themselves between the current warring gangs despite costing them a lot of time and manpower. The rundown apartment complex that had previously been held by the Crimson Heads and before them the Razors, or the warehouse constantly pushed on by the Sons of K.A.I to name just a few of the places he's helped the Stripes take over. Either way, the remaining gangs would soon be at each other's throat and all of Ikebukuro would explode into a glorious cacophony of violence.
Izaya returned to his desk and looked at the board once more. He pushed three black Othello pieces forward, trapping a small group of hapless pawns that would meet them head on before darkness fell across the entire city. Across the board he pushed the black queen up a square, a white knight stalking ever closer but remaining just out of her sight. He hummed to himself, now relaxing in his office chair as he examined his work from another side of the playing field. Of course he could move the game along now, but he wouldn't be able to savor everyone's reactions as they ran down the paths he set, the gang members, the citizens outside the brawl, Mikado's, and most importantly, Celty's. For now he'd just have to sit back and watch as all his little humans ran around and tried to kill each other.
"He's going to know you set him up," Namie said coolly, breaking the quiet.
"You mean, Yanagisuwa?" Izaya asked knowing full well what she meant as he spun around to look out at his city. "Of course he will, he's not entirely stupid."
"And you don't think he'll want to get even with you?" There was a hint of hope in her voice. Of course there would be.
"Is that worry I hear, Namie?" He teased watching the city grow darker and darker with each inch of the sun dropping away to make way for the twilight. By now those Othello pieces were baring down on the unsuspecting pawns. "I'm sure he will, but he's of no immediate concern. He'll be out of prison in a few weeks once the cops finally realize he is innocent. Too bad he'll have no group to fall back on. But by then I'll be the least of his concerns."
Blackness soon settled over the city, quickly overpowered by the lights below and dwindling down to the inky haze that he'd long become accustomed to. It was obnoxiously serene. Namie was kind enough however, to interrupt the peaceful silence.
"I'm leav-" She paused and trotted to the window for a better look. "What in the world is that?"
Izaya had seen it too. A bright, white blast of light was cutting through the night and reaching all the way up to the starless sky. He could feel the grin slowly worming its way over his lips. This was certainly unexpected, whatever it was. And what exactly was it? He couldn't explain it, and neither could Namie given her scarcely gaping mouth and absorbed stare.
The pillar of light quickly disappeared, breaking apart into shards of light that faded back into the night. Whatever it had been, it had risen from the recently abandoned Purple Stripes territory where those brawling pieces would be right about now. Well, when the Razor's came out on top of the little dual he be sure to pay them a special visit and find out what that was.
"Oh my god, Yrsa, what did you do?" Mashi gasped for breath when she finally reached the depths of the alley that her friend had run down.
They'd been walking, getting to know the city before dark, and had been headed back down the streets towards their apartment when they heard the yelling. Mashi had wisely not wanted to get involved. Yrsa on the other hand had run down the alley and told her to wait. When the pillar of light signally a departing soul had appeared Mashi could wait no longer.
Yrsa paused in her whisperings of an ancient rite, barely audible over the maddening shrieks of a raven cutting an angry path in the air above her as if scolding the woman.
"He was dying, Mashi. This at least ensures some peace," she said as she stood over the corpse of a young man. She continued to chant quietly for the unknown man's soul until the prayer was finished.
Mashi knew not to interrupt her, but she could smell the blood in the air, the death that lingered heavily and seeped into her lungs like poison. It was too familiar and she couldn't stay there. Yrsa couldn't either, especially not after the scene she's just caused.
"We have to go," Mashi said firmly, jogging to her friend and tugging urgently on her arm. It was then she heard the wails of a police siren. The raven cried its displeasure and took flight high above the buildings.
Yrsa closed her mouth and watched the bird flee before turning to stare down the alley where the siren's scream grew ever louder.
"Can you get us out of here?" She asked, casting one last look at the stranger.
Mashi nodded. They ran into the deep shadows of a building and disappeared. Not a full minute after their departure and the police were rushing down the alley armed with flashlights but finding nothing but the torn and empty body with a crimson band around his head.