Just a short little thing to get me back into the swing of writing Durarara! before I start over with Insanity and Sticks and Stones. All chapters will be very short; in fact, this is about as long as they will get.
Disclaimer: If I was genius enough to write Durarara!, or Baccano!, then I wouldn't need to be writing fanfictions. Instead, all credit goes to the beautiful (although possibly twisted) mind of Ryougo Narita.
Fear
1
Hands in pockets, a tall figure that towered over people, even with a slouched back... Combined with the frown of irritation etched on his countenance, Heiwajima Shizuo was the epitome of every other human being's worst fears come true.
Even if he tried to keep calm through most of high school, there was no denying his uncontrollable bouts of anger and his awe-inspiring strength which has been known to send objects as dangerous as street signs and desks in the direction of his terrified peers. His lack of socialization toward anyone other than a incessantly bumbling bespectacled boy was also no secret from within the school.
Whenever said bespectacled boy was out for the day, however- usually due to his obsessive tendencies over his roommate- Shizuo was left to sit alone atop the rooftop during his lunch period, his only company being that of a sandwich with a bottle of milk- more than likely picked up from a vending machine he uprooted and used as a weapon earlier that morning- and the occasional Kadota Kyouhei.
That particular day, Shinra had skipped school for the tenth time the whole year, although it probably hardly ever mattered to him since his brain must have been a hundred times the size of any normal human being's. So there Shizuo was, taking bites out of the sandwich his mother prepared for him, taking swigs of his milk- a strawberry flavor had flown out this morning, much to his pleasure. His brother Kasuka even had the decency not to snag his pudding last night, so he had desert, as well.
It was a warm day, a tad bit windy, and the sun was peeking down from the sky as tiny clouds dotted on along. Even the chirping of birds weren't loud enough for him to consider it being a bother.
The door up to the rooftop opened while he was finishing off his pudding, but he didn't bother to look over and see who it was. He already knew, without looking.
It was a deathly pale girl whose name he had either never become acquainted to or constantly escaped his mind. She came up every day during lunch, sneaking a small bottle of vodka out of her backpack and just lying down on the ground, soaking in the sun.
He couldn't even call the thing a "bottle," it was so small. It looked more like a test tube than anything. The only reason he knew it was vodka in the first place was because the scent could sometimes carry out pretty far.
As for the girl herself... Her dark hair is always completely straight, so much so that it typically looks like she'd just had a bucket of water poured over her head, and she always wore heavy eyeliner, which was normally thicker on the bottom so that it almost looked as if she had rings under her sharp eyes. Her gait was always awkward, with the quirk of always having her hands down at her sides. Whenever she began to sunbathe, however, she spread herself out completely, like a child making a snow angel, only bothering to sit up every now and then to take a sip from her vile.
She was a bit of an odd case, Shizuo would admit, but he'd met much stranger people.
He never said a word, and neither did she, which suited him well. He preferred it this way, although not in the way that a person may think. Even if he didn't know this girl, he felt a strange sense of calm from her silent and distant companionship. He was afraid that maybe, if he said something, she would recognize this as Heiwajima Shizuo's territory and be frightened away, like most other students. So, in conclusion, he was rather fond of the silence and distance.
After finishing his lunch, Shizuo leaned back against the chain-linked fence that separated him from a four-story drop of nothing but air. He closed his eyes, letting the sun pour over his face, and simply sat there.
The minutes ticked by with complete silence, save for the quiet singing of birds.
Suddenly, the wind picked up even more strongly that before, and he heard a few papers crinkling. Opening his eyes to find that a few papers were beginning to tug out of his opened back pack, he cursed and leaned over to shove them back in and zip up the bag. When he was finished, he leaned back, bracing himself against the wind and ready to close his eyes again when he caught sight of something curious out of the corner of his eye.
The wind must have come from the direction of the girl's feet, as her skirt was now flying back over her head, leaving a pair of exposed legs.
As soon as he realized this, Shizuo turned away, annoyed that she would let this happen, and blocked the sight from his vision with a hand placed at the side of his face. "Shit, lady; watch it!" He called out to her over the roaring wind. "You're flashin'!"
There was a brief pause before he got any kind of response.
"I'm wearing shorts."
It had been so quiet over the roar of the wind that Shizuo almost wasn't sure he heard her correctly. When he peeked over at her, however, he found that she was, indeed, wearing a pair of white shorts beneath her school uniform.
After this, he went back to closing his eyes and resting.
Kyouhei came up later and almost backed down the stairs in shock at the sight of the girl's skirt flying in the wind. He was just about to call out to her and say something when Shizuo told him. "She's alright. She's wearing shorts."