I often find my brain working like the blocks in Tetris. Not because I catch myself staring at the screen for so long, playing inconsistently and battling through my urges to play again when I've had enough, but because those blocks look so aesthetically pleasing when they fit together nicely. We strive for things like Tetris blocks, don't we? Hoping their placement to be perfectly aligned, and as we hoped: our problems are bumped down and we tackle the next row. Orihara Izaya was my keyboard in this case, the left, right, up, and down arrows, the space bar, as well as the escape button just as much as the pause button. I can't call myself his puppet since it was my fault from the beginning: getting addicted. Nonetheless, I have him to thank as much as I have to blame: he saved me.
Before getting to the man of my dreams, quite literally, not one ounce figuratively, introductions seem to be necessary here. Unfortunately, I don't abide by the rules as much as I used to. I'll keep it brief, save excruciatingly necessary details. The name I go by? Not as important. I'm not addressed by it anymore; nicknames seem to be popular here, and they vary as well. It's quite hard to keep up, especially if they're different ones all the time. As much as I'd like to be grateful, I live with both parents, and a brother who may or may not be more addicted to this game than I am. Hobbies? Can't necessarily pinpoint them; like nicknames, they vary. I do enjoy people watching, however. This is possibly where I went wrong in meeting Izaya. Since I can't really keep quiet about this man, might as well move on then. Perhaps I should start in the middle, and work my way towards the future, or maybe backwards. I'm not all too fond of flashbacking and flash forwarding though. I guess I'll follow one rule then: start at the beginning.
It's human nature to want to have more and more, isn't it? To have accomplished more than anyone else, to own more than most? I found it almost certain that I would live the average, giving life of any teenager and not fall into the subcategories of greed. Beginning it is, then. I really like Ikebukuro, and if living here up until now isn't enough, I plan on living here the rest of my life. What was it that I loved so much about this? The towers, the sights? None of the above, sadly. It was being able to go by a day being whoever you wanted to be, without being recognized. I'm not one to stand out, but I am in the middle. People around me always sought ambition, leaving as much as possible, coming back as least as possible. What was it that I loved so much about this? I didn't necessarily need to remember people either. Confusing? Quite. The solitary days that led on with endless possibilities, Ikebukuro never slept, much like it was never awake in the first place. However, it did have a beginning as much as it had an ending. And in my world, it began with school every morning at 5 in the morning on trains.
I worship sleep. Sadly, I also like to be awake as much as possible so I don't miss anything. And by anything, I mean everything. Fortunately, I knew my limits. I feel that knowledge is the most powerful thing one can gain without payment, and I would take my chances of sustaining such power to fully give it away. In short, I wanted to become a teacher of the sorts. As a university student, without trust funds back west like most, or scholarships for the average, I paid everything with my own blood and labor. I made things seem much more complicated than it really is; my job isn't all that bad either, much like the life I lived. A coffee shop is hardly enough pay for a college student, but I liked it. The afternoons where people are in a much better mood, for talking and for everything else, what more could an average person ask for than the observing of those higher or lower than oneself?
He came to me one day, binoculars around his neck, unashamed of anything it seemed. Coffee, please. Yeah, sure. Would you like them all with sugar? I think we're about out.
"Right away."
He nodded like I understood what he had ordered. Brunette-dark hair, a black v-neck shirt baring his collar, a black fur parka minus the actual animal, unless of course it was, I wouldn't have known. Definitely not a business man, more than likely not a student, a decent job perhaps, but doubtful. He needed some light in his life, unless he used the dark to shadow himself, of which case would describe the binoculars and need for hiding in the second-story building. He took the seat closest to the window, a place I wouldn't dare sit next to. Heights. By the hands of fate, it just so happened I became mesmerized by his being that I had forgotten to ask for his name, and if anything his drink. There weren't any others in line, and me happening to be the only cashier, I took the liberty of fixing up a dark coffee, that and dictating the name Anonymous onto his cup. I also made sure it was illegible such that he wouldn't be able to question it, and I could easily make up an acronym for ANON: An Omniscient Name? A Not-Owned Name? I hadn't planned that far.
It wasn't like the shop to deliver coffee to our customers but, who's going to pick up coffee for ANON? We'd seem too unprofessional if we delivered it through hand. I made myself unknown by walking out of the vision of his eyes, a glint of ruby was it? With a perversion, I was able to make my way behind and placed the coffee passed his shoulder onto the table. His eyes had long been eyeing the scene down below, however. I no longer held my breath, and the short tap of my heels made its way back behind the counter. I forgave him quickly; I liked being the overly-friendly worker for today. Yet, it also wasn't like me to be observant for too long on one person, either. There was something about the unnerving smirk, something about the way it never stopped with its shape, unchanging I suppose.
I wasn't planning on having a conversation with this man at all, two words and that's all I was entitled to, much like what he had given to me. And that was the last I had seen of this peculiar man.
It was fathomable that after seeing such a person, I wouldn't have gotten my mind off of him, right? Right. I dreamt of him that night. His stalking ways made him the predator, and me the prey. What was it really that I dreamt about? A decent conversation with the guy? Actually knowing his name? After that night, the dream faded away just as quickly and it took quite a while for me to regain memory of it. But, as usual, I found myself continuously doing what I did: living.
I wasn't entirely lucky to gain sight of him that day. No, I gained more than just that. A message, quite literally. I received a text from anonymous. Really, I had set out to get a cellphone for my own entertainment, not to call anyone. If I was simplistic at heart, my brain wasn't: I sought out to be the techiest. The latest technology, I had to have it. For updates, of course. I often kept tabs on the world outside of my simple life. It was the only way I was able to contact anyone but the people I've immersed with that day. Strangely enough, it asked: WOULD YOU LIKE TO JOIN DOLLARS?
Ever since that text, the man in the café never left my mind. Had I grown obsessed with his compulsive hobby of stalking people? What if he was stalking me now? The city of Ikebukuro was full of interesting people, and I for one was not one of them, so why should I worry actually. Indeed, maybe he was the one who routed me: join Dollars? A gang, I supposed, or chain mail, or spam… In my mind, I hoped that it was him. I responded of course, immediately, sadly. Just the plain 'yes' worked fine and upon responding, a quick text was sent right back. Teiras. A word I've never seen before in my life, but written in katakana. Password: baccano. I assumed it was a website of some sort, a chat room. I shut off my phone and breathed not a word to anyone, clocked out, and headed home.
The air was cold and ragged, barely any wind but the atmosphere seemed to send chills against my face. The only thing I hated here in Japan: the cold and the hot. Anything in between would settle fine, average, like yours truly. My apartment complex was far, but I persisted in walking for the exercise, and secretly for viewing purposes. I sought out the man who came into the café ever since that night. It was like a guilty pleasure; I yearned to know more about him, to know about his tendencies. Sadly, I had not caught sight of him since that day and a few weeks have passed. Really, how big can Ikebukuro be? Or am I just so slight.
In Ikebukuro, there are well-known statues, buildings, but I never thought there would be well-known people. As much as I happened to be one that liked to keep up with things, I strayed farther away from the rumors than anything. Thus, I rarely knew people, keeping tabs only on those I needed to know. Circulation started about a year ago about a site named DOLLARS, I never bothered researching it as I felt I would succumb to my rule about rumors. In the end, I fell. Curiosity got the best of me, but instead, I found the Yellow Scarves and Blue Squares. Color gangs were the most cowardly; hiding behind the hue to call out to everyone wearing that same color. Had I worn blue, I would have been a Blue Square that day. If I fancied a yellow scarf or bandana, well, I'd be approached by a Blue Square. And suddenly, a colorless gang appeared, hoping for good and in a way sought to replace the color gangs. Why use the terminology gang then? Actually, I believed it a waste of time: reversing back the deeds of the color gangs. And yet, I really liked the idea. My cursor always hovered over the link, but never touched the site. Tonight would have been different.
My family had been one most displeasing to many. A workaholic father that rarely went home, he too had his own fair share of affairs, and sought his family out for nothing. His work mattered most, as much as the financial incentives did as well. My mother, that of a cruel witch, but sadly only did the best that she could for her family. Her ways of preparing us for the world, only to kick us out the minute it became legal to, it was alarming at first, had I not had connections. My brother never left his room, always stared at the computer screen of his. I, myself, never bothered to see what it was that he continuously stared at with those bug eyes of his.
I try not to mention much about them, and I tired little to think of them. They don't know where I live, and I wouldn't be surprised if they moved out of the old house already. I was not a rebel, nor was I the kid selling drugs at school. I paid attention to my studies; again, I really acknowledged knowledge.
That night, I logged onto DOLLARS. Strange enough, it lead me to a chat room already set up. My name Teiras sat there. No welcome screen, no instructions, it didn't even tell me what this was. Instead, chat bubbles popped up constantly. One leaving, one coming in, all hidden under their names probably anonymously given to them like it was given to me. I scanned the chat topic along with the bubbles. I didn't keep the names in my mind, but they were talking about the Dullahan again. Through my studies, I located that these people were also Ikebukorians. How deeply immersed I came to be. I left a message to them all, introducing myself as Teiras. They laughed and pointed out my name already listed there. And just like that, they all introduced themselves as well. I left immediately afterwards, stared at my schoolwork before placing it right back into my bag.
That night, I found the site addicting, I never left it alone, never pried my eyes away from it for too long. Once the chat room had been abandoned, I sought another one immediately after, again and again. Had fate also played the same game I had been playing, I ran into a few people talking about the informant in Shinjuku. Informants, the masters of economics, the manipulators of society, oh, were they the fascinating ones. Immediately, the stroke me with the name I knew I had been looking for: Orihara Izaya.
A/N - I don't know where I'm going with this story, nor do I know what my motivation is for this. -shrug- I guess it will depend on who likes it and who suggests for a continuation. Yes, this is an OCxIzaya... xShizuo maybe. If you don't like it, I'm sure most of us like to pair ourselves with the characters, too... And don't worry, I prefer Shizaya anyways.