Those Who Dwell in Ikebukuro...
...are likely to be find themselves in unfavourable situations

Prologue

Izaya enjoyed going to spots infamous for people jumping to their deaths.

It was always so wonderful the ridiculous reasons people came up with for killing themselves. Every time he heard another excuse that someone made for wanting to kill themselves, his heart swelled more with love for humans and all their traits. It made him grin just thinking about the potential possibility of someone being there as he made his way up the stairs. So far, he had been less than impressed by the people, or lack of thereof, at the usual places he went to but that wasn't enough to deter him out of his good mood today.

Nonetheless, this would be the last place he would visit before he would stop.

Imagine his surprise when he found a girl leaning over the edge of the railing of the last spot. Her shoulder-length hair whipped around her as she leaned further over. He couldn't help but be delighted when he saw her stepping away from the edge after a few long moments. He watched her shoulder go up and down exaggeratedly in a sigh before he decided to speak.

"You aren't going to do it?" he called out over the wind, mouth in a smile.

The girl turned around unsteadily, as if the wind could blow her small figure away if it got any stronger. It was unexpected when it turned out that the girl was actually a young woman, as one might be able to tell from her figure. She couldn't have been much younger than him. His smile widened. Something different, to say the least. It wasn't a teenage girl who was most likely jumping because of "feeling lonely" or "not knowing what to do with their sorry excuse of a life." He sighed inwardly at the excuses. The list could go on. Despite him loving humans, they were, for the most part, incredibly predictable.

Her light brown eyes widened and she mouthed something. Even though he was no lip reader, he could see what she said.

"Orihara Izaya..."

"You know me? I'm flattered." Izaya approached her until he was standing just a few, scant feet from her. "Since you know my name, I think it would only be good manners if I knew yours too."

She blinked incredulously, much to his happiness, but that emotion quickly dissipated with her predictable response.

"I wasn't planning on jumping," she said defensively, completely ignoring his invitation to share her name.

He shrugged, boredom setting in. "That's what some say, but then..." He leaned in until his mouth was by her ear. "...then they jump anyway." She shivered, whether from the cold or him, he could care less. "Any reason you aren't going to do it?"

"I wasn't going to do it in the first place," she insisted again. The young woman hesitated. "I was... looking for something."

Oh, now he was minutely intrigued.

"And what would that be?"

"Something that I've been looking for for a while," she replied solemnly as her eyes trailed over back to the railing. "This time's a bust too..." She said this more to herself than to him.

He cocked his head, a derisive smile on his lips. He made himself seem as sincere as possible. "Do tell me what you were finding. I may be able to help you." Of course he was lying, but it didn't matter as long as she didn't know that. "If you know my name, then you must know what I do."

"When pigs start flying," she scoffed quietly. "I also know of your reputation around Ikebukuro."

"Really?" he asked, amused. "And what could you have heard about me?"

"Bad things..." was all she said as she tried to walk past him. He sidestepped in front of her. She tried going around him again, but he blocked his way too until they were locked in some kind of awkward dance with one trying to go past the other who wouldn't let it happen.

He began laughing loudly. It echoed around them and the emptiness of the rooftop.

When he moved his hands away from clutching his stomach, he noticed that she was halfway to the door. Against his will, he felt a tic of annoyance, but pushed it down to block her once again. This time he purposely leaned against the doorway so that the only way she would be able to go was to push him out of the way. It was effective in stopping her and he was greeted with a very displeased frown.

"Get out of my way."

"All I wanted was your name and why you were here," he replied. "For all you know, I could have been worried."

...

"Ha. Ha. Ha. Was that supposed to be a joke?" she deadpanned. "You're a laugh riot, Orihara-san. Now, could you please get out of my way, thanks."

"You're pretty interesting, aren't you?" he mused. She really was. Not only did she know who he was and had dodged every question he had lobbed at her, she hadn't reacted in fear or panic to an unfamiliar man who she happened to meet on an abandoned rooftop in the middle of the evening. Either she was very brave or very stupid.

The silence, excluding the harsh howls of the wind, was punctuated by the growl of a stomach.

She blushed at her noisy stomach and put a hand on it as if to silence it. What it did was make it growl again, even louder than the first.

He raised an eyebrow at her reaction, but followed that with a sly smile. "Would you like to go somewhere to eat?" He offered only because he thought talking with her would pass the time. He had a growing need to know more about her, if only to sate his curiosity about who exactly she was and what made her tick. "My treat."

There was interest in those honey brown eyes. She bit her glossed bottom lip, obviously debating whether or not to take up the offer. Her brown hair stuck to her mouth. He swept her hair behind her ear, enjoying her reaction when she blinked rapidly as if disbelieving he had touched her.

"Well?" he prodded casually.

"...All right."

Izaya noted that he did most of the talking, though he could tell she was listening to him by the way she responded to him rather eloquently. She seemed quiet, if not gloomy. He also noted that she kept staring at him when she thought he wasn't looking. He turned just in time from ordering another round of sushi and met her eyes. He grinned, delighted when her own eyes widened before she looked down at her wasabi/soy sauce mixture as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

"You keep looking at me, Honey-chan," he said loudly. She flinched at his bulls-eye remark before proceeding to cringe at his nickname. She had refused to tell him her name, so he had put matters into his own hands and made up one for him.

...

"You are good-looking..." she admitted as she finished her food and put her chopsticks neatly on the plate.

"Once again, you flatter me," he interrupted dryly. His chin rested in the palm of his hand.

"...but that wasn't why I was looking at you," she finished.

"Then why were you looking at me?" he pressed.

She thought for a long time before answering. "...Just like you're observing me, I was observing you."

Izaya was absolutely stunned for a long moment before he began chuckling and then those chuckles turned to full blown laughs that cut through the quiet din like it was melted butter. She scowled at him, but he ignored that in favour of laughing even louder. She seemed to care more now that they were in public. People were looking at them, but people always looked at him so he was used to it.

"You really..." He wiped a tear from his eye. "...are great to be around...!" She must have wanted to shock him or something and it had worked for about five seconds before the gave way to mirth. He could feel displeasure radiating from her in ways. It was great, to say the least.

"...I'm leaving," she said calmly. She stood up and he allowed this for all of five seconds until she was about to pass him by. He clasped her wrist with his fingers. She didn't struggle, merely looked at him. "Let go, Orihara-san."

"What's the rush?" he asked with a smirk. "Stay a while."

...

"It may have been chance that we met on that roof, but I've been debating whether or not to meet you for a long time," she confessed blandly. "Now that you're here, I don't have to debate anything any longer."

Her words piqued his growing curiosity.

"And what would that be?"

"Something I've been thinking about ever since I saw you a few hours ago."

He smiled. "You're ignoring my questions again, Honey-"

SLAP!

The crack of her palm against his cheek made everyone in Russian Sushi turn their heads to stare, many with their mouths open. Izaya himself had been forced to turn his head to one side from the impact. He slowly let go of the brown-haired woman's wrist and placed it on the reddening and throbbing flesh of his cheek. His bangs shadowed his face and his expression.

She stepped back, biting hard on her lip as her brows furrowed. The flats she was wearing made a harsh squeak that juxtaposed the silence. She turned her head away and marched right out of the restaurant, but not before shouting something that echoed in his head.

"Serves you right, you heartless bastard!"

A/N: Important. Please read.

Holy heck. Writing in Izaya's POV, especially for an entire chapter was hard. Very hard. I hope his character was done some justice. The rest of the story -if there is one- will be done mostly in the OC's POV. I haven't been to the fandom for more than a year and there's about ten times more fanfics than there were before... Wow.

I don't know if I'll be continuing this or not to be perfectly honest. This was just kind of like a release of my rekindled DRRR love, haha, and I feel pretty released right now. Unlike my other stories, I have no other chapters written for this. If there are enough people interested, I'll continue it. If not, this may become some kind of half-assed oneshot or be deleted.

Thank you for reading. Feedback would be great.