Author's Note: Looking at the first page of the Durarara fanfic base, 90% of it was Shizaya... I just wrote this cuz I wanted to add something other than Yaoi to this place :P I may leave this alone for a while in pursuit of my other fanfics, but even so, don't forget to follow, favorite, and review!
Arrival at the Door Into and Out of Hell
I reach into my pocket, pulling out my phone. By a simple press of a button, it flashes to life, prompting me to look at the displayed time according to my current timezone. Luckily for me, my phone has an app which adjusts the time to where I am.
That aside, it's 7:30.
One more hour before I arrive in Ikebukoro.
Fuck.
It's not like my destination is any less repulsive, but still...
If I have to be on the same plane with these people any longer, I might just have a nervous breakdown.
Or, maybe I'll just smash someone's head on the side of the plane...
Maybe both.
Trying my best to suppress my more violent thoughts, I stick some headphones in my ear and turn the music up loud.
One more hour.
I hate crowds.
Later that evening...
Before I realized it, the plane lands in Narita Airport. It's about time.
I take my luggage and walk as fast as I could away from the airport, pushing my way through the crowd. Places like these make me feel like the world's closing in on me.
I really hope it's not always going to be this crowded. Thank god my job isn't the type that has me standing out in public all day...
After finally making it a block or two from the airport, I put up my hood and start walking in the other direction that everyone else seems to be going in.
Thankfully, the amount of people soon dissipates to only a few couples here and there. I guess even in cities there can be quiet places.
Only now do I look up and notice the flashing lights of this city. The advertisements, the atmosphere, all of it has a strange sense of gorgeousness. Even enough for someone like me to be awestruck.
Ikebukoro.
According to what I was told, this place is a hive of Japanese culture. As such, many people roam its streets throughout the day as well as at night.
As nice as the city itself looks, that's the exact opposite of what I wanted to hear in the job briefing.
You see, I'm an engineer in the fields of electricity, mechanical, and telecommunications. Though most people underestimate me because I'm a woman and only in my twenties, but I'm good at my job.
Because of my wide range of skill, my boss in the U.S. sent me to Japan to study Mechatronics at a Japanese company we've become associated with. Part of the reason why I was sent here is because I'm half-Japanese, so I knew the language ever since I was little.
My first day at work begins next week, so I'll have plenty of time to get myself used to this new environment, including the huge crowd of people I'll probably have to deal with a lot. Back in America, I only worked in a moderate-sized town much unlike the massive metropolis I now find myself in.
After walking for a bit, I reach into my pocket and pull out a crumpled up piece of paper which is supposed to have the address of my apartment on it. Looking at the street signs, I think I'm close (surprising, since I actually wasn't paying all that much attention to where I was going).
Indeed, I spot a mediocre-looking apartment building to my right once I reach a three-way intersection.
Apartment 10B, Hm? 10B, 10B...
Here it is.
I stick the key in the lock and open the door, entering my new home.
The inside is nothing remarkable; that is, it's completely plain even for a Japanese apartment.
For the next hour and a half, I unpack what I managed to fit into my luggage: Clothes, a futon (see bottom), some hygienic products, and a small clock as well as my wallet and passport.
I'll probably shop for some cooking tools tomorrow and wait for payday to buy some actual furniture.
After unpacking everything, I take a much needed shower. As I rid myself of today's dirt, I can't help but feel like a new person.
I'm still me, though. The thing's I've done haven't changed as much as I want to change them.
After the shower, I roll open my futon and try my best to get some sleep. I stare at my clock on the wall in hopes that the steady ticking of its seconds needle will lull me to sleep.
Then ten minutes pass.
Then an hour.
And I thought Jet Lag was supposed to make you tired.
It's not like the futon is uncomfortable; it's almost like I'm too tired to sleep.
Or even too tired to come up with a logical explanation as to why I can't sleep in the first place.
At this point, it's quite evident that sleep will only evade me. Deciding to go out and buy some sleeping pills, I get dressed and head outside.
The air is cool. Such is to be expected of summer nights, even in the city.
As I look around, I reach into my memory in an attempt to remember the kanji for "Pharmaceuticals".
"の医薬品", or "No iyakuhin". That seems about right.
Eventually I come across a shop that seems to fit the bill just right...
...But it's closed.
Not wanting this trip outside to go to waste, I take a walk around to get myself familiar with at least the area around my apartment, as any more attempts to sleep will likely result in failure. Lucky for me, this place is emptier then the area near Narita Airport.
Upon fully exploring the streets near my new abode, I find little that I haven't already seen nor assumed was there.
That is, except for a park.
It's a fairly small park, one that you would likely see little kids playing in.
At this time of night, however, it's barren of anyone other than myself.
Tired from walking and unwilling to go home, I simply lay on the wood-chipped ground of this park and stare at the sky.
The stars are absent from the sky, as if snuffed out by a great wind.
In the distance, I hear the sound of metal smashing against concrete, accompanied by shouting.
If it's a car crash or some sort of gang fight, I don't really care.
On the bright side, though, at least people are more likely to go towards that than here.
My work doesn't start until next week, does it?
With that thought, I feel my eyes get heavier.
As I grow more and more tired, I could hear the shouting get louder. And for some reason, the sound of metal being crushed grows louder as well.
I simply push the thought to the back of my head as I grow more tired, and my eyes begin to shut.
It's about time I get some sleep.
I don't even care if it's in the middle of a park.
I just want to sleep.
...
...
All of a sudden, I'm struck in the side by what feels like a very big, very heavy object. I'm sent flying a few feet.
Immediately, I'm more pissed that I was woken up than worried over whatever injuries I sustained.
Izaya's POV:
Another day, another pissed off Shizuo.
"IZAAAYYAAAAAAAAA!" The blond would-be bartender shouts at me, ripping a stop sign out of the ground.
Ah yes, the wonderful sound of a displeased Shizu-chan. Ever since I met the guy, he's been the only human I've ever hated.
If I don't love him, is he really human then? The answer is no. All the more reason to hate the guy.
Quite predictably, he opts to throw the twisted metal at me rather than coming up close. One simply hop to the side is all it takes to avoid the attack, however.
"You know this as well as I do, Shizu-chan, you gotta try harder than that to get me!~" I tell the furious human-not-human.
He replies not with words, but with a ballistic vending machine. A step up, I guess, but this man has lifted cars before.
"Still not enough!" I yell back at him as I dodge his attack yet again.
And so, this goes on for quite a bit. He'd find the nearest large object to throw at me, nailed down or not, and I'd simply dodge it.
Before long, however, I notice myself retreating back with him chasing me.
Looks like the guy's finally gaining the upper hand in one of our fights.
Eventually, we find ourselves in an area that seems a bit more suburban than anywhere else in the city.
The only thing that pleases me about this place is the people. Otherwise, it's just a lack of buildings for me to parkour off of. Of course, this also means a potential lack of vending machines for Shizu-chan to use as ammo against me.
Despite this disadvantage, the both of us seem to manage ourselves.
Before I realize it, I find myself in a little childrens' playground. For some reason, I find this a substantially fitting setting for this.
Shizu-chan rips another stoplight out of the ground. I take a few steps back, intending to dodge yet another one of his attacks.
He throws it, and I dodge it per usual.
"Ah crap!" I hear Shizu-chan exclaim.
I resume my previous stance, but Shizuo doesn't pick up anything. Instead, he looks to the left of me. I look in the same place, too, and see a figure slowly stand up off the ground. Only when I see the long hair and feminine body type do I realize that Shizuo's attack had hit a seemingly young woman instead of the ground, and probably sent her flying a meter or two from where she originally was.
The girl appears to look in the direction of Shizuo, though it's difficult to tell as her hair is covering her face.
"So... It was you." The girl says in a dark tone. It's easy to tell that she's absolutely livid.
She slowly walks towards Shizuo, who seemingly doesn't know how to fight someone he had no idea even existed.
Normally, I would just take advantage of this distraction and be on my merry way. However, there's something about the girl.
She's far too interesting to miss out on.
All of a sudden, she seemingly rockets towards Shizuo, running so fast that the blond hardly even had time to react.
It's all over in an instant.
In less than a second, the girl had brought Shizuo's head down hard on a nearby wooden bench, smashing it into pieces. Much to my surprise, he doesn't get up after a few moments.
I highly doubt he was killed, but even so, not even I have been able to do that to Shizu-chan.
The woman simply stands over him, doing nothing else. I take this moment to study her.
Her long black hair is messy, which is to be expected of after going through Shizu-chan. She wears a simple dark gray jacket and black jeans. Wait, jeans? Is she from the U.S?
Almost immediately after I finish my observation of her, she collapses on the ground, blood dripping from a wound in her side.
Alright, alright, help a fellow fictioner out here. As I said earlier, 90% of DRRR's! fanfics are Shizaya. We need to change it up here and there, damnit. I hope you enjoyed this, because you guys will decide whether or not I actually continue the story. Meh, I might anyways. Either case, don't forget to Follow, Favorite, and Review!
Oh, and a futon in Japan one of those white flat beds that appear uncomfortable, and not the couch-bed combinations we see here. Btw, it's actually more comfortable than it looks.
-Regards and all that, SEP