A/N: I decided to write a Durarara! fanfiction. I don't own the anime, but I do own my characters and the plot. I know it may seem dull or confusing this first chapter, but I'll try to fix it up to the best of my abilities keeping in mind I haven't written anything for a long time. I mean I have but ..lol the things I have written were horribly rushed. Anyways, since Misaki, the original character of mine, daydreams frequently I've decided to bold and italicize them so no one gets her hallucinations confused with her reality. UNEDITED. I haven't really proofread it, this is basically a super omega bad rough rough rough draft.

CHAPTER 00 - INTRODUCTION

Everyone had a secret, something they indulged in, felt so guilty about it they didn't dare utter a word and strayed from said topic, some worse than others, and some surprisingly simple. So what did you expect that a 21-year-old woman who was a human rights activist lawyer for one year and spends her free time geocaching dirty secret happened to be? Where if the people at her boisterous law firm found out they would surely do something...well nothing too drastic...but some more taunting than usual. With that in mind, she didn't dare utter a word about her being an omega closet otaku, yeah you're probably like, big whoop, you're in Ikebukuro everyone is probably a freaking otaku, that's what she naively assumed as well.

It seemed to be the fifth disfigured street sign she had to hop over, a styrofoam cup of instant coffee: two sugars and milk, the way she preferred it: sweet. 'Heiwajima-san really made life difficult for others,' She thought. Someone should really do something about that because she'd rather not spend her already late difficult mornings dodging obstacles because she lives in the same hustling city as the superhuman.

"OW-FREAKING SCOUNDREL YOU!" She mumbles in distaste. Her toes were throbbing in these closed heels as she hit into said disfigured street sign. Overlooking that she called an inanimate object a scoundrel not even something more normal sounding like 'fucker', she zigzagged out of the potentially-toe-breaking street in a fitting pair of black skinny jeans, a blazer, and her beloved leather briefcase. She technically could have had a purse or backpack since she actually hasn't even had a case yet just helped out on some, but it made her feel important and business-y. So why the hell not? Hailing a taxing once she got to a more populous street and clambering inside she plastered a bright smile on her face and said a, "Take me to Yageshi Firm."

The taxi driver was an elderly man with sun spots coating his bald wrinkly head, and whiskers nearly covering his face with silvery facial hair. Taking a sip from her beverage - which was now cold mind you - , she noticed the slight perplexity in his onyx eyes. 'No one ever knows where I work...what a cruel ignorant world.' "It's by Yagiri Pharmacy." She exhales and resists slamming her head into the headrest as he brightens up and drives her to said area. 'What was so great about that dumb place anyways, law is cool...better than boring medical stuff.. and cells...and how cows have horns.' The traffic was horrendous as what was expected of the city.

After greeting all her superiors, (which was basically everyone she just started like three months ago cut her some slack) she trailed towards her cubicle before stumbling, yet again over something. However this something was actually an animate object instead of just a beat up piece of junk. Or actually she was a beat up piece of junk... that was slightly insulting towards the crumbled stop sign. Poor thing.

"Sorry Shuga-chan." Her voice cooed out retracting her thin creamy legs under her. Her two acquaintances laughed in the background. 'Shuga' felt her eyebrow twitch as she lay sprawled against the dingy carpet. No this hoe wasn't, and that isn't fair she legally changed her name when she graduated high school. It wasn't exactly her fault her ignorant weeaboo mother decided to name her Sugar. But alas, it wasn't sugar in English, oh no, it was much better. In. Japanese. She literally was just called Shuga. The hell is wrong with foreign parents, do they not understand no matter what language, you just don't name your kid after random stuff you see. She thought it was at least much better than socks... Anyways, her name now was Misaki Kimura, why Misaki? Her undying love to Kyo in Maid-Sama!, that show was just so beautiful. She used to be so obsessed with it, she'd practically bawl every time she'd pass by a maid cafe on her way to work.

Blinking dubiously at the women with bleached blonde hair, perfect teeth, a set of smoldering black eyes, "I thought this was a human rights firm...can't we all just get along?" She teased picking herself up off the ground and grabbing her briefcase. 'Any moment now a cute guy that I didn't know worked here will come to my aid and defend me and my lame humor. Annnnyyy minute now. Who am I kidding it was like high school all over again damn.' She supposed due to the fall her briefcase crappy lock loosened and in an agonizingly slow motion time set, her contents spilled out along with her latest edition of Wolf Girl and Black Prince. She winced internally attempting to keep the awkward guilty face off her features, while hoping her recently purchased volume wasn't damaged in the fall.

Giggles erupted around her instantly in response as they probed and took the manga in revolt. "Otakuuuuu!" "Isn't she like a million years old?" "What is she 13?" "I bet she sits around reading dirty mangas all day because she can't get any dick."

She grabbed the manga defensively. 'Screw waiting for prince charming rescuing me, I'll rescue myself since whoever they are is a tardy douchebag.' "Excuse me," She piped up to no avail as the trio are nosily gossiping away with delighted sneers. "Excuse me!" She hollered dumbly waving a hand in front of their blabbering faces.

The flocks' leader eyed her with mirth dancing across her smirking features. "Yes loner?"

"I'd like my cousins manga back, I bought it for her." She dragged along each word awkwardly, As an afterthought she added, "Bitch." Their faces turned blank as they just stared at her frame in astonishment. She snatched the book back possessively and trotted back to her desk. She shouldn't have randomly called Charlie a bitch, it wasn't exactly needed no matter how good it made her feel, because shortly after rumors spread around the whole office due to her snarky plastic surgery done lips. Weird stuff like Misaki's into bondage or she's a fujioshi... which was true, but still.

So moral of the story, the Yageshi Firm is filled with a bunch of ignorant women who act as if they're still in their good days in high school. 'Just you guys wait, when I get my first case, no matter how tough, and get a promotion I'll have them groveling at my feet.' The woman thought smugly.

"Oh Mikasa-Sama! We were all so dumb, here take all these mangas, mangas are so cool! Want a body pillow of Sebastian from Black Butler? Sure, sure! Anything for you!"

A ditzy smile overtook her features as she spun around blissfully in her chair. Her crappy flip phone violently buzzed nearby and she blanched. 'Was it maybe Nakura?' Grabbing my cellphone apprehensively she read the screen in puzzlement. "I want to disappear." 'How strange, why was Nakura acting so sad...it broke my little heart.' Her fingers flew over the keys in a rushed urgency as jade eyes slanted. "lol...why..?" She's bad at texting, which is why her current amount of real life friends were nonexistent. The phone buzzed back in response almost immediately.

"I just found out my parents are getting a divorce, and I think it's my fault."

Her mouth reflexively let out a low whistle, 'Damn poor Nakura. How does one respond to that...I'm so socially handicapped.' Running a timid hand through her chestnut hair she typed back.

"Everyone has there own reasons for their actions, if it concerns you or not just bear with it. It'll work out in the end."

"No...I really can't take this anymore Misa, I'm thinking of ending it for real. Want to disappear with me? I've been alone all my life, I don't want to die by myself..."

"Sure. I'll disappear with you, work has been hell for me."

"Thanks Misa, I knew I could count on you."

-.-.

She looked below her in barely concealed raging emotions, there was a stain on the pavement, a rustic maroon color. Obviously there has been previous suicides here. Her eyes flickered towards the sky which lost its life to the brooding night as well. The cold winds nipped at her loose cream cardigan as she pushed her thick-rimmed glasses higher on the bridge of her nose.

"It's scary looking down isn't it Kimura-san." A voice purred from the shadows. She turned around certainly startled.

"Nakura-san?" Misaki swallowed as the figure emerged. A man dressed in a thick coat with fur lining. His index fingers shone with thick rings as he evaluated her.

A smirk overtook his features his maroon eyes glinting, "You've been craving death ever since sixth grade right, Shuga," his voice was oozing with fake pity and superiority. "Ever since Daichu embarrassed you by dumping you in front of the whole school. You resorted to cutting yourself, then in eighth grade feeling helplessly left out, as if you didn't belong in Japan, you sought out refuge in manga and anime, the fictional world since reality was too much for a measly human to acknowledge. What a joke. Now you're getting harassed at work, when you thought the bad days were over in school they just kept pestering you until now, isn't that right?"

Her body quivered and her pupils expanded. "Dude, I don't know how you know that stuff but I didn't actually come here to die." She stared at him stupidly. "I was just going to say just because your parents are divorcing doesn't mean you jump off a building, most marriages nowadays end up in divorces, you're probably just experiencing some chronic depression and you should get that medical condition looked at."

The male labeled as Nakura stared at her in amusement. Oh how unpredictable and dumb little humans were, her reaction was certainly not expected. Clapping his hands rapidly with an impish grin he walked along the roof's railing. "Shuga-chan is oh so deep and surprising, who would've thought. You know with the way you were texting and always complaining daily I genuinely believed you wanted to leave this chaotic world, oh for shame." He paused throwing a look over his shoulder. "What if...I...decided...to...jump?" His legs bent as he peered down below him with adrenaline pumping in his body.

However Misaki was actually thinking about something else. 'Do I actually text depressingly? Man you'd think Erika and Walker would have mentioned that, but I only talk anime with those two...so maybe to other people I'm probably really upset with life sounding...I should fix that.'

The raven haired male looked annoyed as her attention was drifting off, how dare she ignore someone with such a godly status. "What if I decided to just die here an now," Nakura repeated lazily yet again.

Misaki glanced up in surprise. Her eyebrow twitched, why was he being so irritating right now? Goes to show people aren't always who they are online, not like the girl had any room to speak. "I mean I guess you can, but that'd be a dumb reason. If you're doing it for attention that just means your personality wasn't admiring enough for people to recognize you without negative actions. For example, have you heard about the information broker in Shinjuku?"

'Nakura' blankly returned her gaze sitting on the ledge as he listens to the girl gripe on and on.

"I mean who does he think he is, obsessively fretting over human nature as if he doesn't consider himself of the same species. Causing havoc just to see the different outcomes with different variables, I mean sounds like he's trying to be an antagonist of his own manga. A real annoying egoist from what I can evaluate who just brings negative attention to himself since no one admires him for himself. Don't turn into that guy Nakura, you're much better than that- Oh hey what time is it?" Her owlish emerald eyes set on the male who seemed ready to cut out her throat. However, since Misaki had no ounce of common sense she deducted it was getting late. "Oh, Nakura! I just remembered that they're airing a new episode of One Piece right now, I'll catch you later!" She grinned patting his back as he sat there in a bubble of loathe. "If you ever need me, feel free to message me, okay? I'll always be here for you."

So with a smile, she clambered down the stairs in a hurry closing the roof door as Nakura- or more commonly known outside one of his multiple screen names, Izaya, threw his pocket knife where her head was a moment ago. He'll get her back for that eventually. What a stupid scum of a human.

-.-.

Misaki felt a little weight come off her shoulders. It felt good helping those in need, hopefully Nakura went home and everything is all right. With a content curl of her pink lips, she felt her freckled nose twitch.

In a sneeze that sounded like a tiny yelp, she let out a giant sneeze. 'Is someone talking about me? Man I'm sure popular these days...' Her eyes widened in shrouded awe as Zuro and Luffy fought bravely.

-.-.

If someone said that Misaki's future days were going to be hell she really would have jumped off that roof with Nakura a month ago. However, life doesn't give any precaution and does whatever it wants without any regards to anything. It has been exactly one month until Nakura has messaged her, ever since that night, and she felt dread. It was rather disappointing she tried to help and probably worsened the situation at hand. She couldn't help but wonder if her internet friend was now just another stain on the concrete.

Dragging herself out of her small twin bed, which for a 5'5" frame was a bit too cozy, with her usual aura of gloom and thoughts racing back to the boy with raven hair she forced herself to get ready for another day at work. Not that she'd actually work, since she has still yet not been assigned a case and just does everyone's paperwork. It's a mystery as to how she hasn't been fired yet. Throwing on high-waisted black skinny jeans and a blazer with crisp cream undershirt, she put her glasses on since Kami-sama knows where her contacts are. Brushing her curly chestnut hair in annoyance, she set out in her worn out black-closed pumps.

"Wonder if I have any orange juice.." She backtracked towards her miniature fridge looking at the contents in obvious disappointment. She was ready for the weekend, usually she isn't too bombarded with work so she has Friday, Saturday, and Sunday off. She technically should be working on Friday as well, but her salary is comfortable enough, and by comfortable it means that she can't afford any sick days because she is barely paying her electricity bills on time.

The fridge light flickered and she stared at the stale crackers and empty milk carton occupying her fridge. On the weekends is usually when she cooks food for herself, so the fridge is empty the on working days. With a soft sigh, she shut the fridge and left her apartment.

-.-.

Misaki liked her cubicle. Usually people who worked at desks were mopey and felt "shut-in", but she genuinely liked her working space. Maybe it's just her neat freak tendencies, but she had a cute mint-green desk organizer with her files organized alphabetically, and all her pens, the same Pilot brand in navy ink, in the drawers with maybe one pencil and eraser. Her desk was neat and under her desk in the cabinet was some sanitary wipes, a couple of romance novels, and some air freshener. It was all neat, not a thing out of place, and comforting. Every night before she'd head home she'd make sure to vacuum the floor, even if she didn't eat anything in there. So all in all, it was relaxing, however may as that be, it was still work. Work was basically school, except one subject and you get paid for going.

"KIMASA-SAN!" A voice bellowed. It came from the head office. The staff including Misaki exchanged looks. 'Kimasa? Is that a new worker?'

Whispers arose as everyone looked around in a panic. No one was budging. 'Did he perhaps mean Kimura? There's no harm in finding out...but what did Yageshi-san want with me?' Placing her hands on her desk and leaving the safeness of her cubicle she trudged forward towards the office.

"Do you think she got fired?" "I hope..." "I heard she hasn't even worked on a single case."

Her palms started to moisten with perspiration. Exasperatedly she knocked on the door biting her lip and adjusting her attire to look more presentable to her boss.

"Come in."

She did just that and closed the door behind her, bowing lowly to her superior. A man who was about 56 years-old, his eyebrows thick and remind her of caterpillars sat patiently in his leather seat. His hair was brushed over his balding, and his eyes calculating behind a set of spectacles. Lifting herself up from her bow, she stared at him dreadfully. He stared back. Awkwardly, the silence coated the two.

"D-Did you need anything Sir?" Misaki lowly inquired, unable to take the suffocating quite any longer.

Yageshi snapped his fingers in remembrance, "Ah yes, I have a case for you."

Misaki's face beamed and glowed in happiness, a grin overtook her features as she nodded eagerly. "Yes Sir, I'm ready for whatever it may be, I promise I won't let you down, I'll withhold Yageshi's strong and powerful reputation, anything!"

The CEO seemed pleased with her outburst and made a motion towards a man occupying a seat that Misaki just took notice of.

The man smirked at her, his auburn eyes glinting and his teeth a pretty alabaster that formed a cruel smirk. He gave her a teasing wave with too much finger-wiggling, his two rings glinting under the fluorescent light.

Misaki gaped openly. "Nakura?! Oh you're okay, that's a relief!"

The man nearly face-palmed at how stupid this girl was.

Yageshi cleared his throat, "This is your client, Orihara Izaya. Please take good care of him and his case."

Misaki paled notably.

"For example, have you heard about the information broker in Shinjuku?...I mean who does he think he is, obsessively fretting over human nature as if he doesn't consider himself of the same species. Causing havoc just to see the different outcomes with different variables, I mean sounds like he's trying to be an antagonist of his own manga. A real annoying egoist from what I can evaluate who just brings negative attention to himself since no one admires him for himself. Don't turn into that guy Nakura, you're much better than that- Oh hey what time is it?" Her owlish emerald eyes set on the male who seemed ready to cut out her throat.

'Holy fuggernuggets, I'm royally screwed. Why do I have such a big mouth, I'm going to be eaten and spit out into the streets of Ikebukuro. Is it too late to withdraw my acceptance?'

"It's going to be a pleasure working with you Shuga-chan!~" Izaya grabbed her wrist forcefully and looked into her petrified eyes. "My case is getting Shizuo Heiwajima placed in jail for several attempts of second degree murder! And also destruction of Ikebukuro and being general threat and protozoan to the lovely human race."

The anxious woman's eyes rolled back and she collapsed on the floor after fainting. Izaya devilishly towered over her unconscious form trying to swallow the urge to laugh since he can't very well be doing that in front of the CEO. 'Oh how great this will be, clearing the streets of that barbarian and tempting him from a cage. Oh how splendid this great world is indeed! If only the ditz would awaken,' The Orihara thought gleefully nudging her with the tip of his boots.

END of CHAPTER 00

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the first chapter, there isn't much character development or background, this is simply a tester chapter to see if people actually enjoy the story. I do have a plot, and I'll go into more character development and such later. If Izaya seems out of character here please tell me how to improve. I'll warn my readers now lol, I suck at updating since it takes me a while to get into the feel of my stories, I have school, and I like writing long detail-packed chapters. I think this one chapter is around 3,400 or something...whoops.