A/N: Amongst everything going on, I have decided to once again start a new story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara. The only things I own are my OCs.

Enjoy~

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Schadenfreude

Prologue

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Out of all her high school memories, one in particular stands out from the rest.

She's walking down the stairs, arms crushed against her bag, recognizing the slight push from behind her - not quite hard enough to make her topple over but strong enough to make her notice.

When she looks back there is a boy with brown hair and a line meant for an indifferent mouth, and she knows that he is not a good boy, not a smart boy, just someone who doesn't have the patience to ride the tide of students trickling down the stairs to get to class.

But she doesn't say anything. Her eyes don't meet his because he is looking the other way even though she is staring directly at his face. But the thing is (and this is always the thing), she doesn't say anything. She expects it to stop with a look and a slower, retaliatory walk instead of an accusation - a rightful yell to "stop fucking pushing me".

The force that pushes her back is harder, the intent behind it unclear as she almost trips but regains her footing, heart clenched between her lungs and sweat pooling out of her palms. Her mouth remains a thin line, swallowing words and fear and her slowing steps.

When she gets to the bottom of the stairs she looks back again and she thinks she sees a smile and she hopes she's wrong but she just might be right and this - this is what she dreams about that night.

There was a girl next to that boy, laughing as they walked past, laughing and talking as she tripped and stumbled and she knows that not one of them felt sorry for it.

(This is the spark.)

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A/N: I pulled this out of an experience I had a few weeks ago. I didn't say anything, or call him out, or try to embarrass him, but I wish I had. I wish I was strong enough and didn't think about the semantics of things - of whether or not I would embarrass myself if I called him out, of whether or not I would get in trouble, whether or not I was just over-analyzing the situation; I knew I was going to fall off the stairs if he pushed harder, and I was scared shitless. And now I can only write about it so at least anyone who reads this and who is afraid to speak up is able to find the courage to stand up for themselves in situations like this, or worse.

If you enjoyed this prologue and feel like leaving a review tell me what you liked, didn't like, or have questions on!

Chapter One Preview:

There is a boy with red eyes and a tender smile lined with secrets. He stands behind a mother with a picture perfect smile and a skirt whose color matches the bow on her head, but there's something she can't shake. Some itch she can't scratch. He says his please's and thank you's and laughs at the jokes her parents make before they're left alone to play together.

Her father squeezes her hand once before letting her go.

Til next time~