AN: Once upon a time, at really late at night at a time in which I was still a high-schooler … I wrote twenty-nine pages of this story, then fell asleep since it was probably 4 AM. Many months later, I uncovered it in my files, and was cheered on by Kitty, Sissy and Shitsuren to finish it. So. This is a disaster fanfiction. Despite what I wanted, as I honestly feel that breaking this down into chapters would take away from the full effect of this story, it's in multiple chapters. Which is driving me nuts. Really, really nuts. To me, it's more like a movie than a book with chapters. Would you like your favorite movie if only fifteen minutes came out every month? Probably not. That is my logic. Buuut I think many of you would scream (as some already have) at a fanfiction with 20,000+ words in it and all that smushed into one chapter. Anyways, I hope all the facts in this story are as real as I could make it. If it isn't … then just go along with it. I am sorry about the long word count of this fanfiction (no I'm not). Expect a quick update. I'm breaking this fanfiction down to contain about 5 to 8 pages in each chapter. This fanfiction technically starts in the middle of episode twenty-one. Please let me know of any errors and PLEASE review. I really, really, REALLY appreciate reviews.

Korean Friendly Translation (Thanks to lovitan): h t t p : / / c a f e . n a v e r . c o m / m i k a d o l o v e / 2 7 4 6

Disclaimer: We do not in any way own the characters/scenes/… oh you know the drill I'm sure.

When the World Goes "Boom"

A Durarara! Fanfiction written by Foxy

Chapter One: The Disaster

Pictures flashed across the screen. "The island of Honshu. Home to many great moments of history for our nation. On the surface, it is home to the active volcano Mount Fuji and the Japanese Alps. Japan's longest rivers, the Shinano River, runs swiftly through what is now becoming a reserve for wildlife and plant life. It has been known for its earthquakes, including an infamous one that struck in September 1923. But perhaps the worst tragedy that has ever struck this island under the reign of Japan is what took place on March 17th, 2003. What was once known as Japan's Tokyo Metropolis, as well as adjacent lands and towns, was completely wiped away by forces that are still unknown to this day."

Credits and music soon flashed and scrolled across, images in the background indicating the suddenness of the disaster that had struck. Soon, the well-groomed, well-educated narrator was visible, sitting in a chair, speaking directly to the camera. "Many years ago, the greatest tragedy since the Atom Bomb was dropped on Hiroshima and Nagasaki in 1945 occurred March 17th, 2003, on Honshu Island. That very day, the various parts of Honshu Island – including Tokyo – were nearly wiped out. It is now a graveyard that remains taboo to go to today, although new settlements have started appearing along the coastlines as our population recovers. The causes are still unknown: many speculate it to have been an earthquake. Some believe it was a weapon that destroyed it. Others believe it was an act of God."

The narrator stands up, walks over to where a map of former Honshu Island is displayed. On at are marked areas of mega disaster. "Most believe that we will never find the answer as to what wiped out Japan's main island. However, we seek to help uncover that answer within the next two hours. We have sought out the remaining survivors of the incident and have asked them for their stories. We have sent teams out for archaeological diggings, and we have historians to help explain the events to us. We hope that at some point in the future we will uncover the truth of what happened on that day."

More images, more credits. The images then changed to an elderly woman, and text on the screen read: [Asagaya District of Suginami].

"Can you recall the events of March 17th, 2003, for us?"

"It was the day that hell descended, that's what."

The screen flashed, showing another snippet of another interview.

A nervous glance, a sorrowful gaze from an old man sitting within a group of elderly people. [Ikebukuro District of Toshima]. "…It's not something I like remembering."

[Azabu District of Minato]. "The last thing I remember was the ground quaking violently. The next I woke up and people were digging me out. I've never gone back there. Nor do I want to."

[Ginza District of Chuo]. Three or four grouped together, an elderly woman spoke. "We were trapped inside a subway car for a week. I'm never going to forget the smell of the rotting flesh. Never."

[Kameido District of Koto]. An elderly man sitting next to his daughter. "I lost my leg in that damn event. But I'm damn glad it was just the leg and not like the man next to me that lost his head."

[Shibuya District of Shibuya]. "Never again. Never again. My grandfather, who's gone to rest now, told me when he dug me out that this was my Hiroshima. I've never forgotten him or that day."

"We can only wonder what happened … on that day …"
*

Lost in his thoughts and troubled by everything he ever knew, Mikado was letting his feet lead him to his way home. His mind brewed a storm of troubles; to begin with, there was Takeguchi-kun. Takeguchi-kun wasn't a bully or a jerk at all; he was a normal kid who was in the same grade as Mikado. And yet he was targeted for simply being a member of the Dollars, when he hadn't done anything at all to provoke such an attack.

Maybe … it's a good idea for him to quit the Dollars … I'd hate for him to be targeted again. I'd hate for anyone to be targeted for that matter. He looked up ahead of where he was walking, his eyes still zoned out in thought. He didn't like the fact that Dollars was being accepted as a thug gang; that wasn't supposed to be its purpose. The Dollars were meant to remain invisible, not to attack, not to be attacked, and not to get involved in the Gang Wars. Dollars meant anyone, anywhere; the man across the street, the woman walking out of the store, the teenagers hanging out in the park – and it was meant to stay that: a network of allies and of friends that didn't want to fight. Yet, other gangs were advancing on them, and he knew people would get hurt if they didn't do something. If he didn't do something.

His talk with his senior, Kadota, had only made him feel even more lost within the city. Mikado still thought now – more than ever – that Dollars had not been a good idea to begin with. Why had he kept pushing the Dollars up, until it fully surfaced in the real world? Why hadn't he dropped it when the other creators had? Maybe this chaos would end if I have the group disappear for good.

The Dollars wasn't his only worry, either. Kida-kun and Sonohara-san … they're both troubled by something too … He had noticed Kida's troubles. It was hard not to notice; he wasn't playful anymore. He was always disappearing and was constantly busy, and even more recently, Kida had been ignoring him. Mikado couldn't understand why, either. But he seems troubled by the rising gang violence … he couldn't be involved in one, could he? He shook the thought from his head. No, I doubt it … it's probably something else …

However, Sonohara's troubles went completely unnoticed by him. And for that, he mentally kicked himself. The signs had been there, but he hadn't seen any of them until her friend, Harima-san, confronted him about it. To him, it showed him how useless as a friend he'd been. I never even noticed that she was feeling troubled by something as well …

His mind progressed in the turmoil of his dilemmas as he continued on his way home.
*

Spying a stray can on the ground in a rather deserted street, Masaomi walked over to it casually and kicked it. He watched it clatter down the street, bumping up in the air every time its bent sides struck a rough surface. He strolled up to it once more, and repeated the process.

The Yellow Scarves were getting feisty; and it wasn't in any kind of good way. The Yellow Scarves were thirsting for blood, for some form of violence that Masaomi, personally, wasn't fond of.

It hadn't been like this before. When he founded the group years back, it had been just him and about ten classmates who had elected him as their leader. They'd form the ideas together, although they would ask his permission first, since he was the best at thinking things through. And they only did things to make themselves look cool; cool in the good guy way, not the bad ass way. To Kida, it had also been a way to impress the ladies with his commanding skills.

But now … he supposed the group would have either had to have dissolved, or become much more serious. And he needed it to be serious as well; he had a true purpose for it now. A purpose that definitely topped all of the past deeds of the Yellow Scarves. Finding and putting an end to the Slasher that had attacked Anri: that was his quest. And he had to admit that he had some good leads now. The Black Rider belonged to the Dollars. And after the encounter at their base, it now appeared that the Black Rider was in co-hoots with the Slasher.

Masaomi wasn't stupid; he could add two and two. It added up to the fact that the Dollars was the most likely culprit behind the Slasher attacks. But if Mikado really was the Dollars leader, as Izaya had informed him … he just couldn't see Mikado as the type to purposefully go looking to hurt people in any manner – especially the manner the Slasher used.

In the end, he really couldn't think that Mikado was behind the Slasher attacks. He just wasn't that kind of a guy. But then there was the matter that Mikado had never told him, his best friend, that he was the leader of an online group. Even though it may have been the smarter choice, especially since Kida himself probably was still in the Yellow Scarves at that point in time, but it left him a little unsure of whether or not he could trust his best friend. He didn't want to see Mikado get hurt … but if Dollars was being left unchecked, he would put an end to it.
*

Her eyes glowed an eerie red as they danced back and forth, looking to her left and her right. Her feet pattered against the pavement as she ran from alleyway to alleyway, sending thoughts from her mind to the children of Saika. Anri sought the help of the children that were part of the Yellow Scarves, and most of them heard her. She sought to bring an end to the fighting that she felt she had caused, and to do that, she believed she needed to stop the Yellow Scarves' violence. "Can anyone hear my voice?"

She didn't want to see any more innocent people get hurt due to her past lack of self-control; she was responsible for causing the rift between the gangs. By using those of Saika's children that held positions in the Yellow Scarves, there would likely be fewer casualties or wounded. It was underhanded, but crafty. It would be better to have the Yellow Scarves fall apart on the inside and remain distracted by that rather than going around and beating up people. She was a bit worried about the children she was using, though; she didn't want to see them hurt either. But it's the only way this conflict can end … it's the easiest way for it to end. She re-assured herself. The Yellow Scarves might be more lenient to their fellow members as well, since they won't remember it. At the most, confusion may or may not be a benefit here. But she did not want to simply sit back and do nothing anymore. She had to use her abilities to her fullest now in order to bring about peace.
*

"Here's the address," Shinra held out a piece of note paper with writing scribbled on it; Celty tucked it away with her shadows. "It shouldn't take too long to finish this, so why don't you do me a liiitttle favor and swing by the Sushi shop afterwards to pick up something I'm expecting!"

A few awkward moments of no response, in which Shinra still stood in his goofy position. Celty then pulled out her pager and typed. [It's something I won't like, isn't it?]

Sweat drops began to form on Shinra's forehead. "Wh-what on earth do you mean, Celty my love?"

Tapping could be heard again. [I can see the nervous look on your face. Don't think I'm stupid.]

The doctor (although certainly no one would believe he was one if they saw how dramatic he could be) sighed. "I guess you're too smart for me to hide anything from." Celty waited patiently for an answer. "…my Father."

[No.] The response came almost as soon as Shinra had finished his sentence, and the pager disappeared as well, meaning Celty meant the end of the conversation. She started heading down the hallway towards the door.

"Aww come on honey!" Shinra bounded after her, but knew better than to cross her. "He's not my favorite person either, but he is going to be your father-in-law, so pleeeaasse?" Celty was already gone. He pouted, but then smiled. She'll probably pick him up when she's done.
*

"Seiji! I made you some homemade Dango. Try some!" Mika whipped out a box from her bag and held it inches from Seiji's face. He simply stared at it for a minute, but when she set the box down, took one out and handed it to him; he took it from her and tried a small bit.

"It's good. But it would be even better if you helped me finish it."

Mika giggled, and scooted herself even closer to Seiji on the park bench. It would be difficult for anyone passing by to think they weren't intimate. She leaned her face in and took a small bit in her mouth from the other end of the stick at the same time that her "boyfriend" did.

When she pulled back, she felt his hand trail down her cheek and move in towards her lips, wiping away some crumbs. "I love how your mouth looks exactly the same as hers." His voice sounded far-off, as if he wasn't really interested in her.

She knew the only reason he was with her now was because her face resembled that of a head he was in love with. But it didn't matter to her; she remained filled with her passion for him, and she felt acting upon her feelings was the best course of action. To be so close to him … that was enough for her. If her looks made Seiji happy, then she was happy as well – and that's what mattered to her.

She giggled again, pulling back a little and leaning up against him, staring up at the sky above the buildings and the trees. She blinked, squinting to try and look closer.

"Seiji, is it just me, or is something weird going on up there?"
*

Anri stopped in her tracks, feeling Saika inside of her start to tingle with excitement. What is it? Anri wondered, looking around and trying to detect what had made Saika ecstatic, but she couldn't trace it. But then she heard a gleeful cry from the demon's blade inside her mind: "It's Dead It's Dead It's Dead It's Dead -!"

She felt her blood run cold, aware that something monstrous, something horrible was going to happen. She started to run faster down the sidewalk, forgetting her original objective as she tried to sense what Saika grew ever so more thrilled with.
*

"Hmm … interesting," Izaya leaned back in his spinny chair, looking outside the window up at the sky. "Very interesting."

"What is it now?" Namie asked sarcastically as she filed books away.

"It looks like the sky's boiling over."

"… Excuse me?"
*

She watched from her hospital room's window, her mouth hanging freely as she watched with unbelieving eyes. The buildings … they seem to be warping …
*

Masaomi backed up a few steps, looking up with other onlookers at the towering buildings of Tokyo. The structures seemed to be contorting, some even … melting … What the hell is that? His former worries were momentarily forgotten in the new, unknown development. The can that he had been kicking around in contemplation moments before was now forgotten as it rolled off to the side and gently tapped the base of a wall.

He heard the people around him starting to become panicked at the disturbing rates some of the buildings were contorting; one in particular about a block ahead of them was starting to bend at such an angle that it looked ready to snap off. What the hell was going on? Masaomi's mind drew a blank as his mind went through the various possibilities, but nothing that he knew of made any sense. Bombs? Dynamite? No, someone would've heard or seen an explosion. It was more as if the buildings were starting to rip off or melt by some force. But what force?

Absentmindedly pulling out his phone, he felt his fingers start to brush across the buttons, but they froze, unable to actually press any of them. He looked down at his phone, once again feeling the sinking feeling of despair. Who would he call? Who should he call? He could already hear the panic around him calling the police, the fire department, whoever they could. He couldn't call out his gang, as there was no way they could solve this problem. The government was probably already flooded with calls, and all about the same problem, so there'd be no point to confuse those lines any more than they were.

Who do I call? He bit his lip, feeling his insides shaking at the warped sight before him, even though it was difficult for anyone to see the shaking on his outside. His friend's faces, whom had appeared to him in his previous thoughts, jumped to his mind once again. But then his parents came to mind, too; his parents were in another district entirely. Were they witnessing what he was where they were? But then his friends, they were somewhere in this district … were they okay? What should he do? With each new question that remained unanswered, his heart beat just that much faster.

He didn't get the time to decide. Before he knew it – before anyone around him knew it – the earth beneath him gave a sudden jolt upwards, and thrust back downwards again.

Masaomi had been swept off his feet, effectively falling backwards, feeling and hearing the rumble beneath his being. It was obvious that now an earthquake was happening; whether or not the buildings' warped states were related to the earthquake, though, didn't seem a priority anymore.

The initial quake was brief, and Masaomi started to slowly stand up on his own, despite that his own legs were shaking. He looked around at the panic of people, some running into buildings, some running out, many of them on their phones or tugging their loved ones away to an unknown "safe" spot.

Where's my phone? Masaomi thought shakily, looking at the ground for it among the people running past him. He didn't have time to find it, as the ground moved once more.

This time, the earth quaking felt a lot harsher. He wasn't able to register his surroundings during this quake, falling forward and clinging onto the ground as best he could in a crouched position, moving himself closer to the wall at any chance he got. He heard a great rumble – not the one coming from the earth, but a different one, a heavier one, at the same time, but his mind was too much in a panic and sensory lockdown to try to even think of what it might be.

When the shaking stopped, his mind started to clear again. His fingers were trembling as well, and his nails were red and bloodied from having tried to grip the concrete ground, now full of cracks, during the quake.

His vision felt hazy; the warped vision sensation that one sees when smoke comes off a fire is what his vision looked like all around him. But before he could wonder why, a more immediate problem needed attention.

Still crouched down, his fingers reached up to his throat, starting to scratch as he felt pressure growing inside of his chest. I … I can't breathe! Why can't I breathe? Come on, damn it, breathe!

Instead, a choking, sputtering sound erupted from deep in his throat, and he hunched down even further on his knees and moved closer to the base of the wall next to him, where the kicked can still resided. Why couldn't he breathe? It didn't feel like there were any gases or that something as sticking in his throat. His body felt strange, as if lighter, and maybe even swelling some. A panic attack? Likely. But he couldn't dwell too much on it, he had to force himself to breathe – and soon.

Somehow, he was lucky; instead of a sputtering, gagging noise, he was able to suck in air into his lungs, which then caused him to start coughing. Now his throat felt a burning sensation, probably from not being able to breathe, then breathing too quickly, and finally inhaling whatever dust or debris was nearby. He took the chance to try to take in his surroundings, although he made no attempts to move. The heavy, impacting sound he'd heard earlier that'd been unrelated to the quake was the collapsed tower down the street, which had effectively caused a domino effect on the buildings opposite of him. Others around him were screaming or lying on the ground, unmoving, and rightfully so.

He grabbed a hold of his phone, thankful when he saw that it was okay and still within his reaching distance. Unthinkingly, he quickly started messaging someone – anyone – he wasn't even sure who. His eyes were starting to feel a burning sensation as well, and he was starting to feel overly warm, and he couldn't read what he was writing but he hoped it made as much sense as it made in his mind – which was probably little to no sense at all. The panic he felt in his entire being had a strong hold on him, and he felt his survival instinct also trying to kick in. Run. Hide. Find somewhere safe. Find others. Stay away from threats. Run. But he couldn't run; his ankle felt twisted, probably from one of his earlier falls. He just kept typing, until the choking sensation came back, and he found he couldn't breathe yet again. Only this time, the burning sensation in his body multiplied exponentially.

The earth then chose to rock a third time. This time, Masaomi had no idea what happened. The earth had shook and now he felt his senses slipping. His vision was quickly fading, and he felt as if he was losing both consciousness and control. But as he started to slip into this state, he felt … realization dawn upon him. As if truth, the fluttering, floating feeling he received, was speaking quietly in a gentle tongue, and the world was rebuilding itself in a new form that he both was and wasn't supposed to recognize. He used what he control he had left to move his thumb across his phone, hoping that his message … and his realization … would reach its unknown destination.