It was the first day of his final year at Raira and it felt like any other day. Translation, and don't be shy to take your pick, there are plenty of words to choose from: Boring, dull, mundane, vapid, repetitive, etc. etc. To be truthful this wasn't an unusual kind of day for a guy like Orihara Izaya. Even though his beloved humans were constantly an ever changing whirlpool of emotions and odd ended quirks, and this plethora of a city known as Ikebukuro was his gold mine for such entertainment, it was all beginning turn into stagnant water. And if there's one thing Izaya can't stand, it's stagnant water. Something always had to be in motion for Izaya to be happy.

Of course with this being the first day back at a place known for bringing to life raging hormones and a never ending supply of drama, everything seemed to be in motion. He could have safely let slip just one drop of his own influence into that stagnant pool and watch the ripples of that from afar. Or he could have forgone the drop and send in a pebble instead, but he prefered building up ripples to waves before watching the tsunamis destroy everything. And yet even with this dilemma there was another in which he couldn't quite figure out just where to start.

There was always just the innocent bystander in the crowd he could pick on. Easy prey. A warm up for bigger fish. The appetizer.

Izaya ran his tongue over his teeth with a hazardous smirk crawling along his wolfish features.

Or better yet he could start by antagonizing that monster.

Decisions, decisions, every last one of them a morsel of sweetly tainted forbidden fruit.

However before he could make his selection the teacher walked in. Izaya studied the man with a lazy but critical eye, leaning back in his seat. A childish rhyme came to mind and yet it seemed to fit his first hour sensei fairly well enough in terms of appearance. He's a little teapot short and stout, there was his handle and there was his spout. Tip him over and some useless bullshit would probably come out. He deemed this man as someone that possessed a weak will and would therefore be an easy target to wrap around his little finger.

Izaya resisted the urge to cackle, settling for a subtle snicker and the internal plotting of a funeral speech.

We are gathered here today to commemorate the memory of our dearly beloved Teapot-sensei, who was too asinine for his own good and had a terrible sense of fashion…

Teapot-sensei began taking roll. He split his attention between the now greatly amusing speech he was having too much fun drafting and the names coming out of his balding sensei's large mouth. Every year he listened for new names, new possible dolls to play with. Every year he got exactly what he wanted and was hardly ever disappointed in fun, the usual disturbance being that it didn't last as long as he had hoped it would.

He ticked off the names, all two of them, on his right hand with slight disappointment at the lack of newbies.

"Okada, Blaise." Teapot-sensei had been looking squarely at his paper up until this point. Beady brown eyes flickered up and surveyed the crowd of students only to be greeted with silence. Izaya leaned and inch forward in his seat and joined in the sightseeing.

"Okada, Blaise?" His belovedly ridiculous sensei called again before marking the person absent. He leaned back in his seat with an unintelligible hmmph. It was certainly a bold move for someone who's first name was French for 'one who stammers' to be late on their first day of school. Izaya made a mental note to keep an ear out for anyone named Blaise showing up to school late.

He was pulled away from his musings by Teapot-sensei once again. "Orihara, Izaya."

The young man raised his hand in the air and wiggled his fingers. With a cheeky smile he called out, "Hai hai!"

Teapot-sensei gave him a dubious once over before shaking his head and returning to his attendance roll.

And so his first day of his last year at Raira officially began. Little did he know that it would be a little over a month before he'd officially become acquainted with the student named Blaise.

{/ = /}

It was the first day of his last year at Raira and Heiwajima Shizuo had had enough of it. He was mentally shot and drained so much to the point where he had almost gone through an entire pack of cigarettes just to help maintain his composure. It was like the universe was conspiring against him by forcing him to spend his day surrounded by idiots.

Idiots that wouldn't shut up, idiots that wanted to pick fights with him, a particular idiot named Shinra that wanted a sample of his blood… The list could probably go on and on but just thinking about it was causing a migraine to begin pulsing between his eyes. Shizuo took another drag of his smoke before reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, the extra nicotine in his system working overtime to soothe his nerves.

Aside from idiots he was also struggling academically, and it was only the beginning of the fucking year. Perhaps it was his innate ability to focus on anything but the lesson, or maybe it was because he couldn't take sitting still for so damn long. The possibilities were endless. Either way he now had too much homework for just the first day and he barely had an inkling of a clue as to how to do any of it. Thinking about it pissed him off and only increased the radius of the pain, now spreading to sit behind his eyes.

Shizuo took a final drag from his cigarette and chucked it, stepping on it and giving his foot a twist for good measure to make sure it was out. He didn't want to risk starting a fire. People already accused him of being a monster enough as it was, no need to add to the reputation he didn't even want. After putting out the cigarette he stepped off the curb.

The whine of an engine shattered the silence and he looked to his left just in time to see a motorcycle bear down on him. His automatic reflexes clashed with each other. On one hand if he would have just stepped back then he'd easily avoid getting hit. On the other hand based on the speed of the biker he automatically assumed it was another attack, and was prepared to knock the person sky high. The forge in the back of his mind was stoked once again to such a scalding degree and he was absolutely sick of it. Within seconds the biker was in striking distance when they swerved madly around him with a wild screech.

He turned to watch the person pass him by, an odd streak of scarlet being the only visible thing on the speed demon. The rear lights lit up and the bike came to a shaky halt. The biker hops of and runs up to him. What he expected was some stupid gang member coming back for a fight, not a panicking young woman firing questions at him probably faster than his mother could.

"Whoa dude are you alright? I didn't clip you or anything did I? You're not gonna sue me for this are ya?! Oh man please don't sue me for this. I can't afford to pay for that kind of shit!" The girl waved her hands around frantically, almost as if trying to pat him down from a distance to check that she really hadn't done any damage. The fire in the back of Shizuo's mind died down to a dull, irritated murmur. He stared at her while reaching up to rub the back of his head.

"You didn't hit me, but you shouldn't have been speeding in this zone anyways," He attempted to keep his tone neutral, but his tenseness still managed to find a way to slip into the conversation. The girl ducked her head, which sported no helmet to hide away her auburn hair being crimped by a pair of goggles still protecting her eyes. Her left hand rubbed against her chest in a counterclockwise motion as she apologized to him. He scrutinized her, trying to place her face to a gang simply because of the style of her clothes; a long black coat with a thin loose shirt and shorts.

"Sorry, sorry! I was just trying to make an epic escape from some bozos trying to cling to an old argument we had and man, let me tell you, those guys are some persistent fuckers. Do you know what it's like to have people hounding you all day and night for something completely insignificant or relevant to the times? I mean, it's like some annoying flea that keeps hopping back on the dog after it's been scratched off."

He had been distracted as soon as she started moving her hands around, finding it slightly mesmerizing how she used her hands to talk nearly just as much as she used her mouth. But the moment she had mentioned the word flea then his hard glare was bearing down on her and most likely burning holes. And surprisingly, she took absolutely no notice of it.

The revving of a few more engines caught their attention and they both turned to look behind him. There wasn't anyone else in sight yet, but he could see the chick that had nearly run him over edging back towards her bike. He turned away from the empty street to see her turning around and full on sprinting away from him.

No, not me, he amended, the bozos chasing her. She's just getting a head start, that's all.

She swung her leg over the bike and flipped the kickstand up. Though it probably wouldn't matter in the long haul it dawned on him that he should probably get her name before she leaves. The girl did almost run him over after all.

"Oi!" he yells over the engine purring to life. The girl looks back at him. "What's your name?"

She grinned a full on chesire grin. "Name's Blaise, but you better spell it B-L-A-Z-E when you write about me in your journal tonight hot cakes, or I'll come hunt you down and whack you upside the head. Hate to almost hit and run, but I gotta keep some people on their toes!"

The girl named Blaise, spelled Blaze, turned in her seat and punched the gas. As she sped off, people sped in. Shizuo turned to face the new group with a scowl.

"Now what kind of guy would I be if I let these scum keep chasing after her," he said contemplatively to himself as he observed the menacing bikers coming his way. "For all I know they could be going to beat her up. What kind of a man beats up a woman?"

Though he didn't really mean to, Shizuo worked himself up into a frenzy. He abhorred the special kind of trash which roamed the earth that would hit a woman. He may not have known what exactly it is that girl did, but that certainly wasn't gonna stop him from preventing a physical confrontation from reaching her.

Shizuo cracked his knuckles and rammed into the first biker head on.

{\ = \}

Exactly 1 month later:

A girl walked into class with a skirt longer than practically every single girls' in the school and a bandaid over a bruised nose. She beamed at the chattering crowd that paid absolutely no attention to her and strode towards the front of the class to announce her presence. She stopped in front of the portly teacher's desk and rapped her knuckles on the hard surface to gain his attention. Said teacher whipped his head up so fast that if he was actually trying, he might have broken it. Though the noise wasn't enough to catch most of the class's attention, it didn't fail to catch a certain flea's.

Izaya gave the girl a once over and concluded that he had never seen her before. Instead of focusing on her outfit he focused on the way she carried herself, the attitude she emanated. Her shoulders were set straight, yet were completely and utterly at ease. The stance indicated an open personality; chin held high in strong cockiness, hands on her hips like she meant business, and a posture that denied weakness. If he had to guess then he'd also say that she must have a chipper personality. She was so confident that it almost made him feel ill just being in the same room as her. And that's exactly what kept him interested.

"Can I help you?" Teapot-sensei wrinkled his nose as he looked her up and down, not liking that she wasn't dressed exactly like all the other girls. Only a certain percentage of females actually wore the uniform's skirt down to their ankles. Those people were often best avoided by the general, normal population as a whole.

He couldn't see her expression, but her voice said she was smiling. "Sure ya can. Name's Okada Blaise, but I spell it B-L-A-Z-E so remember that okay, Teach?"

His eyebrows raised a fraction up his head and Izaya leaned forward eagerly. Like a hawk Izaya tracked her left hand as she made odd gestures with it. He liked where this human was going. Not only was her type sickening, but she was bold and upfront, all the while proudly displaying her skills in the first meeting.

She knows ASL huh? She must actually be part American, not French. And with that get up it's all too clear just what she is. A Yankee attending Raira? How fun.

A smirk that had been playing on his lips morphed into a charming smile and he laced his hands behind his head.

"You're late, Blaze-chan! School started a month ago you know."

The girls around him tittered at his teasing and his smile turned smug. Blaze turned around and leaned against Teapot-sensei's desk, much to the teacher's dismay. Her head cocked to the left, a copper auburn cascade slipping over her shoulder, and she pinned him down with an all too unapologetic smile. Cyan eyes dipped in a layer of frost roamed over his face with casual humor.

"Really? Guess I should have set my alarm for a different time then."

He laughed, the sound escaping him more as a dry bark than something sincere. For a second longer they locked eyes. In that second he thought about an old saying, how eyes were seemingly the windows to the soul. He couldn't help but chuckle to himself on the inside at how vague and narrow minded that saying was. After all, not all glass was easy to see through. Some kinds were warped and the only thing visible would be muted shadows.

Blaze pushed off the desk, stalking between the rows of students to settle herself in the empty seat in front of him. She flicked some hair over her shoulder and rested one elbow casually on his desk.

"Name?"

"Orihara Izaya."

"Well, Orihara Izaya, I hope you don't think too poorly of my tardiness. You'll be willing to forgive me, won't you?"

He loved it. He hadn't done anything to her yet and here she was lacing each word with simpering sarcasm. Izaya could see it in her eyes, his reflection, a looming shadow. It made him want to clean those symbolic windows so he could see the contents on the other side clearly, and then smash them to hear the joyous tinkling of glass raining to the ground. It was very clear to him that he had found another project.

Izaya ran his his tongue over his teeth, imagining himself as a wolf hungrily standing above his prey while still dressed as the sheep. With a scoff he raised his hand and waved her words away like they were excess smoke from a cigarette. "What kind of person would I be for not giving the new girl a chance? Of course you're forgiven."

"Golly, what a relief! And here I was thinking I'd have to dog your steps and hound you for redemption. You just saved both of us the hassle."

Her sarcasm persisted but the creeping threat disappeared. His shadow still remained prominent in her now relaxed eyes, suggesting that she was still wary of him to an extent. Izaya didn't mind in the least.

It was what would make his new game fun after all.

{/ = /}

"Dammit, where'd it go?" he muttered as he patted himself down, the butt of the unlit cigarette becoming increasingly torn as he chewed it in agitation. He just wanted a smoke, that's all he came out here to do. Why couldn't the universe just see fit to let him have a peaceful smoke without finding a way to screw it up for him? At some point he had lost his damn lighter and it was only now, when he was up on the school roof after miraculously getting away from patronizing morons and their incessant need to be loud, that Shizuo realized he was screwed.

There was a click and suddenly his focus honed in on a silver lighter with a small but healthy looking flame flaring out of it. A thin hand grasped the lighter and he followed it up the arm, leading him to the grinning face of a girl. Her red hair stuck out like a beacon, and in the back of his mind something nagged at him that it was a cause for familiarity. For a long moment he studied her before turning away to accept the offering of fire. As soon as his stick was lit he breathed in deeply before sighing with smoke blowing out of his mouth in relief.

"Well heck buddy, not even a thank you or a hello nice to see you again?"

Shizuo frowned, "Sorry. Thanks."

He glanced at the girl again, confused. What did she mean by 'hello, nice to see you again'? Did they know each other and he had somehow just forgotten? He'll admit that he's not very good at putting names and faces together, but he's fairly certain he's never crossed paths with this… Yankee. Still, the moment she had started speaking then the nagging in the back of his mind had only grown stronger.

The girl sighed dramatically and leaned against the chain link fence. "Geez hot cakes, I'd have thought that you'd have remembered the person that nearly ran you over. Granted that was over a month ago and everything just went by so fast. And here I was thinking we were fated to be, cause you know, that's how all the cliched manga go. But alas, you don't even remember me."

Shizuo thought back on her words, temporarily disregarding the fact that she was being exceedingly dramatic over what was beginning to look like spilled milk. The further back he went the more muddled it became, as every day seemed basically the same to him. It was until he thought about seeing a streak of red that he remembered. With it he also registered that this was the second time she's called him by that blunt nickname, and the back of his neck grew warm.

"Oh, you're that chick that was speeding in a residential area," He stared down at her. Well, more like he inclined his head ever so slightly. She was fairly tall, and even after checking to make sure she wasn't wearing heels, she stood a little above his shoulders. "Uh, what did you say your name was again? Haze or something like that?"

She practically wilted against the fence. "That's what you remember about me? What are you, the underhand vigilante of Ikebukuro?" But just as quick as she was to be dramatic about it she resurfaced more positive than ever. "Oh well, it was a near hit and run scenario, can't expect you to remember everything. The name's Blaise, but you better spell it B-L-A-Z-E or it's off with your head!"

He turned his head at her increased volume, wincing with growing irritation. He searched for a quick exit by pursuing the next topic, which was probably not the best choice. "Well how the hell was it spelled before and why does the change matter?"

Blaze shrunk, folding her arms over her chest and jutting her lower lip out to sulk. With the ugly bruising on her nose it made her look sickly. "The original spelling was B-L-A-I-S-E and it was French for something completely sissy. My mom's attempt at naming in hopes that I wouldn't be a loud child."

"Well that clearly backfired," he muttered, turning so he could lean against the fence as well. Blaze snickered.

"And what about you hot cakes? I never even got your name. I mean, I'll be more than happy to keep calling you by the current nickname if you'd like, but an actual name would be cool too ya know."

The back of his neck grew warmer.

"The name's Shizuo. Heiwajima Shizuo. And I won't be offended if you drop the nickname."

In fact, it's highly preferred that you do.

"Hint noted, but not going to be counted in the long haul," His shoulders sagged. "But now that we're properly acquainted it's a pleasure to meet you, Heiwajima Shizuo."

She proffered her left hand and he stared at it, little cuts and bruises winding all over the place on a calloused palm. He studied the mark of old fights, long and short scars flashing across her skin like their own kind of knives. No doubt about it, she was a true Yankee.

Hesitantly he took her hand, barely putting any pressure into his grip as he performed a quick shake. However, Blaze held his hand firmly and shook for longer and more enthusiastically than he would have liked. A shadow of foreboding hung over his mind like a dark cloud and he got the distinct feeling that he just unwittingly signed a pact with the devil.

"Well dudely dude, I'll leave you to finish your smoke in peace, but don't think you'll be rid of me forever. We'll be seeing each other plenty now that I'm here to stay."

Her hand slipped out of his grasp and she skipped away towards the door. She flung it open with ease and waltzed inside. Before she fully disappeared, Blaze turned around and gave him a cheeky grin.

"Bye new best friend!"

Shizuo blinked. "Wait, what do you mean new best friend?!"

But she had already ran down the stairs in a fit of hysterical laughter. He slumped against the fence, causing it to rattle.

Screw pacts with the devil, he just signed his soul off to a mental case.

{\ = \}

This is actually my first time writing something for Drrr! so this might come off as a little rusty sounding and I apologize for that. I would just like to thank Sungirl92 and amourdesoi, though neither of you know me, for spurring inspiration to action within me to write this story. Your stories, Break You and Crybaby respectively, are surprisingly really motivating.

Anyways, this is where I'll sign off for now. If you have any questions or comments feel free to review or PM me. Best regards,

-Yopū Yuna