Let me Tell you a Story
Trouble is stirring in Ikebukuro and for once its not Izaya's doing. In fact, said underground informant is very pissed off about it and this Mal-roy guy. It seems that the city will be turned upside-down with the secrets of Izaya's that are unravelling. [Harry is Izaya][This will be more like a scrapbook of scenes than a proper fic]
"Iza-nii! Iza-nii! Tell us that story!"
"Ne, I thought you two were too old for sto~ries? Didn't you just say that you were kiddies anymore now that you're a whole eight years old?"
"We are! Isn't that right Kururi!"
"Uhuh."
"It's just we wanted to hear that one, you know, the one about the little boy. -Just for old times' sake. Right Kururi?"
"Uh."
"Umm~hmm~ of~ course it is! I suppose it also has nothing to do with that horror movie I told you not to watch, hmm~?"
"Iza-nii!"
"You two didn't really think you could have hidden that from me, ne?"
"Iza-nii! If you tell mum or dad about this, we'll tell them about what really happened to Mrs. Kimura's son last week! Right Kururi?"
"Uhuh."
"Oh Mairu~chan~! Kururi~chan! I'm hurt! How could you ever think that your dear brother would do such a thing!"
...
There was a pause of silence.
A resigned sigh followed it.
"Fi~ne! Are you both comfortable?"
"Then let me tell you a story. A story about a small little boy who lived in the cupboard under the stairs of his aunt and uncle's house. He lived in the small cupboard because he was different from other little boys. He was weird and strange to them, so his aunt and uncle and cousin didn't like him. In fact, nobody liked him, so he spent all of his time alone in his cupboard or doing chores. Because of this, the little boy was very lonely and never had a single friend. He felt sad and hopeless.
That was, until his eleventh birthday, when the clock struck twelve and everything changed with a single letter.
Oh, but this letter was any old ordinary letter; it was an invitation! One that opened the door to another world. A magical, wondrous, enchanting world.
And what was even better was that there were people like him there, ones that accepted him and loved him for all his weirdness. He even made two friends, met a kind old man that treated him like a grandson and found a family. Here, the boy finally felt like he belonged and it made him happy.
So happy in fact, that he blinded himself to the truth of this new world.
Hidden away and just teasing at the edges, but never fully revealing itself, was the darkness; both of the shadow that loomed above them and the inky decay concealed deep within his the people's hearts.
Unaware of this, the boy continued on his merry way through the many adventures and mysteries the new world had to offer.
For a year the little boy and his friends journeyed through, bravely and foolishly facing trolls, giant three-headed dogs, twisting child-eating plants, and even the shadow himself but it was through his second year that he begun to discover the truth of this world.
He first realised that he was also different to the rest of them as well, different in a way that they didn't tolerate so he tried to hide his difference, in the same way as he tried to hide his weirdness from the people of his old world. But just as those from the other world had known and remembered, they would not forget or forgive either. Even his new family and friends were reluctant to accept this difference.
And then people started to disappear, only to turn up in an endless coma.
The people were scared and wanted someone to blame so they pointed their fingers towards the little boy. But the little boy felt hurt and scared too and the accusations of the people he trusted pushed him further. It was only the support of his two friends that kept him going, however wary they still were.
The little boy and his two friends decided to investigate the disappearances and end it, but just as they had found the perpetrator's lair, one of his friends disappeared. Soon after, his remaining friend's sister vanished similarly.
Shaken and frightened by the loss of his sister, the little boy's friend turned on him, joining ranks with the masses. The little boy, now alone once more, ignored the jeers and whispers and decided to rescue the missing in hopes of redeeming himself in the eyes of his family.
It was a foolish endeavour but one that the little boy though was necessary if he wished to stay among the only people who'd ever been remotely like him.
The journey of his lead him down a long winding pipe and through a cavern under the ground. It was here that a monster snake, fifty-foot in length, with wide, yellow, murderous eyes attacked the little boy. Despite his adversary, the little boy managed to escape through maze of pipes to the centre chamber where the snake's latest victim lay.
Just as he was about to reach her, the little boy collapsed, feeling a sharp pain at his sides. The snake had bit him, half swallowing his mid-section as its fangs crushed his ribs. This is it, the little boy had thought to himself in that moment. That was how he was going to die.
It was by miracle that the little boy did not die, but ironically, what saved him was the very thing that he had tried to hide from the world and himself; his so called weirdness.
Moving before the snake could reawaken, he fled the labyrinth of pipes and caves, his friend's sister over his shoulder before resurfacing and running to the old grandfather to explain what had happened.
However, when the little boy did reach the old grandfather, he realised he was not alone with the man, but there were several others with the man, some of whom the little boy recognised as his friends and their families. It seemed that they still believed him to be the kidnapper and seeing the little boy with the kidnapper's latest victim only confirmed this to them. The people did not give him a chance to explain before they locked him away. The little boy watched as all those he had trusted condemned him to his punishment, each one of them turning their backs on him as he was dragged him away.
The people sent him away to an island amidst the storm seas. It was a place filled with criminals and monsters. The little boy felt angry and scared and lifeless here, believing himself to have no purpose in neither the two worlds whom both rejected his weirdness.
The little boy stayed, trapped, on the island of monsters for a year before he vanished.
Nobody after that ever heard of the little boy ever again for it was as if he was never there in the first place.
And the morale of that story is~ that it's better to be yourself rather than trying to change yourself for others!"
…
"Ne, ne, Iza-nii?"
"Umhh, Mairu~chan?"
"What happened to the little boy after that?"
"Hmm… As I said, nobody really knows, so really, he could be anywhere! Just think, he could be living here right under our noses!"
Whenever he saw that angry expression cross Masaomi's face he'd see snippets of red hair and blue eyes and freckled cheeks. It was one of the reasons he liked messing with the kid; a special kind of torture he inflicted upon himself. No matter how much it hurt to see that same righteously angry or mischievous and cheeky expression, it was the only thing he had of his old friend; a living memory almost.
A twisted and distorted substitute to what was and what could have been.