Prologue

All of Ikebukuro knew Shizuo Heiwajima. The mere mention of his name was enough to strike fear or amazement from anyone who heard it.

If one were to merely look at Shizuo, on his off days where he would be peacefully traversing town with his cigarette dangling from his lips, they would find the combination of a lanky physique, bleached hair, a bartender suit, and lazy smile rather beckoning and not at all threatening. But the people of Ikebukuro knew better than to let the appearance fool them, Shizuo was after all, a monster in disguise.

Few spoke to, or regarded Shizuo normally, and those few couldn't exactly be considered normal citizens.

There was the Dullahan, Celty, a headless woman who knew very well what it was like to be thought a monster. There was Shinra, Shizuo's bothersome friend from high school, and Tom, his employer, one of the few who could get Shizuo to calm down. The two crazed otaku and their friends, and his brother, Kasuka.

These few people were Shizuo's favorite, especially his brother. Though they might seem distant to the passerby, their relationship was actually quite close, the two harboring large amounts of concern for one another, which was shown through small, barely noticeable actions.

There was one more person, who interacted with Shizuo fearlessly. The person was actually the reason Shizuo often found himself in troublesome situations and in a bad mood. The mere though of them or the mere glimpse of their familiar figure made Shizuo's blood boil, and not in a good way. It made him see red, and set his mind on only one action. Kill.

Now don't get Shizuo wrong, he hated violence, he didn't like blood or destruction, and that was why he never watched action or horror movies.

But there was something about the damn flea, something that ran back to when they were still adolescents that just didn't click with him. Maybe it was the self-confident smirk, the posture of superiority, the fact that he wasn't in the least bit fazed by Shizuo, seeming in fact, amused. Maybe it was all those things. He didn't know, he may never know, he didn't want to know. All he knew was that he could smell the flea's stink in the air, and it was starting to piss him off.

All of Ikebukuro knew Orihara Izaya, maybe all of Japan knew him too, he wouldn't doubt it. He had been almost everywhere, and knew virtually everything. He was an informant for a reason after all. His name roused curiosity and distrust, except in the case of a bodyguard in particular, to which he caused anger.

Izaya was a bit of a sociopath, to put it nicely. He loved watching humans, measuring and guessing their reactions, controlling them like a divine puppet master. It made him feel god like, filled him with an odd sense of satisfaction whenever he was the one to bring the various expressions to their faces.

Despite his weird hobby and line of work, Izaya actually had quite the normal family, with two sisters, a mother and father. He cared about them in his own way, but had never been really close, so it wasn't a surprise that they no longer cared much about what he was doing with his life. In fact, no one really cared about what he was doing with his life. Despite his love for humans, they didn't love him back. Not one.

And if he was to be a little honest with himself, he sometimes felt alone due to that. He was isolated, no matter how hard he tried he would never exactly fit in. He was worse off than the monster he constantly taunted.

Yes, there was one human Izaya didn't love, but they couldn't exactly be considered human, despite what appearances might say. His strength and lack of control were beyond animalistic, it was monstrous, maybe comparable to the Hulk.

From the first moment Izaya had laid eyes on him, there had been something about the symmetric face contorted in rage, the blonde hair billowing in the wind of destruction, which had lured him in. And he hated it. He hated how that monster made him feel alive, made him feel the rush of adrenaline he rarely felt.

As much as he loved humans, they were predictable, so predictable, that over the years they became boring. Yet, the human disguised as a monster, he was different, Izaya never knew what to expect. When he thought the other had been defeated, he would just get up, bleeding and limping but still roaring in anger. When he thought the other would bash his skull in, he would just walk past with a frown as if Izaya didn't even exist.

This entirety drove the informant crazy, and he could already feel the tingling sensation and smirk he only got when in the presence of his beast.

So? What do you all think? Care to give it a chance? I think I can get a good story out of this. I hope. Please leave anything that let's me know how you feel about this. Take it like costumer service…I guess. Thank you for reading, and if you saw any mistakes(yes, I mean grammar or spelling or just info.) or if you just find this worth continuing please let me know! Yeah, what I mean is read and review. XD

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