A/N: In all honesty, this is my first time writing. I hope it is bearable.

Summary – When his past begins to haunt him again after 15 years, Orihara Izaya knows that he doesn't have many benefiting options to select from. "Shizu-chan, I need your help." "You need my what?" Even if it would cost him everything, he was going to survive this. "Protect me." Shizaya.

WARNING: Explicit themes, such as torture, abuse, etc. If you don't like it? Well, there's nothing I can do about that.

Update: Special thanks to my beta-reader, KSdees! She did a great job editing this chapter and I really appreciate her effort.

The First File:

"It Started Like Any Other Wednesday"

Falling.

Hurting.

Tortured…

Who am I?

What is this?

"Izaya."

RRRRRIIINNNGGGG!

"Nngh…"

His morning started off with the alarm that once again, interfered his sleep. Well, that was a terrible dream to start off a nice Wednesday. "Bleh." Attempting to get rid of the bitter taste in his mouth, the man spat into his sink, and then admired his beautiful face in the mirror. "Divine."

Stroking his jawline, he proceeded to grabbing his toothbrush to coat it with the mint-colored paste. The refreshing flavor burst in his mouth, waking his dreary head up. To dream of something so ancient, so uncanny… He threw up the contents into the bowl. "Must be some kind of curse."

His closet was packed with different shades of dark clothing. Yanking the black long-sleeved shirt and auburn pants out of their place, he peeled off his thin pieces of clothing. The thick, rancorous feeling still loomed over his body, which deepened the crease near Izaya's brows.

"Tch." He flung the door open, caring less about the violent impact it caused on his doorknob that collided with the wall.

The acrimonious sight of his secretary didn't enhance his sour mood.

"Oh, look who seems to be feeling fabulous." Sarcasm literally dripped from her tone.

"On unarguable terms, I am indeed, very fabulous, Namie." He forcefully placed a sly smile on his face.

In return, she rolled her eyes and flicked her pen in the air. "As if."

Slumping down on his chair, Izaya twisted his position towards his computer. His daily schedule was to check his inbox – it was how he made a living, after all.

[You have 5 new mails.]

Three of them were spam, and one was from Shinra – he was probably drunk, because he had written down biological nonsense in the email regarding polygenetic traits of human beings. But then there was one email from an ID he did not recognize – it was untitled.

Click.

[I know you, Orihara Izaya.]

The renowned informant paused, and took a good few seconds to stare at the text. It was a quite odd mail, considering some points: firstly, everyone that lived long enough in Ikebukuro knew the name, Orihara Izaya. Secondly, none of his clients ever addressed him in such mannerisms – meaning, nobody ever called him by his full name. Lastly, which was what disturbed him the most, was that this was his more secluded email account – only those of the Awakusu-kai and ranked others were aware that the owner of this email was Izaya.

[There is one image attached.]

Click.

With slight hesitation, he clicked on the attached image. It loaded slowly, and he waited.

At first he thought it was some sort of virus as the displayed picture was just black – but within the darkness, he could make out a slim silhouette – perhaps of a little boy. There was something about the overall ambience of the image that crept him out – and it was scarce that anything ever crept him out.

A prank? He bit the side of his lip. Or…

"Izaya, don't you have an appointment in two hours?"

"Appoint- oh, right." Fuck you, Shiki-san. Shiki Haruya – one of the executives for the Awakusu-kai. In close relations with Izaya, they were mere business partners with a systematic affiliation that was based off money, and filthy benefits. Filthy, but lucrative. "Hah…" I'd love to see this morning get better anytime soon.

"Namie, don't steal anything~" Playfully speaking, Izaya skipped out of his condo with said secretary screeching his cursed name behind him with much ferocity.

The meetings he had with the Awakusu-kai were one of the more bothersome ones. Of course, they were irreplaceable partners in crime for Izaya. But that didn't change the base of their relationship that traced back about 15 years – and mentioned 15 years was Orihara Izaya's dark ages.

"I~ZA~YAAAAAAA~!"

Out of the fantastic 365 days God has given for him to choose, Izaya groaned, he just had to choose today.

The man that was sprinting towards him with incredible speediness with another vending machine in his hands was the strongest man in Ikebukuro, Heiwajima Shizuo. Also read as 'Orihara Izaya's fucking worst enemy'. He sensed blocks of air being penetrated behind, and jumped into the smoky atmosphere, just in time to dodge the ricocheting vending machine.

"What a delight, Shizu-chan!" Izaya sneered at the growling wild animal on the road. "It's a great pleasure to see you here, but much to my dismay, I have an appointment to attend to. If this lovely brawl could just wait a few hours –"

"Now!" Barked Shizuo, "I need to kill you now!"

"I thought so. But too bad, little Shizu-doggy will have to wait. Can you do that?"

"SHIZU-DOG –"

"Ja ne, Shizu-chan~!" Leaping towards the opposite side of the wall, Izaya displayed his wondrous, polished parkour skills. He could literally hear the fucking footsteps of that brainless protozoan a few unsafe meters behind him, undoubtedly with a new vending machine as he chased after him like predator after his prey.

Just that, Orihara Izaya had absolutely no plans in acting out the role of the 'prey' in this scenario. If Heiwajima Shizuo was the belligerent lion, then Izaya was the cunning hyena that waited for the appearance of the said lion to fall directly into his nice trap.

I'm sorry, Shizu-chan, but I don't fight a losing battle. He considered that for a while. Screw that, I'm not sorry.

The Awakusu-kai headquarters arrived in view, and the slim man made a sharp turn just in time for Shizuo to lose sight of him. Lightly landing on the rusty cement, the sardonic informant made his entrance into the organization in business.

"Well, well, Izaya-san," Shiki Haruya, executive of the Awakusu-kai welcomed him with his usual cordial, polite gesture and tone. "You're early."

"No surprises there." The first thing Izaya did was to examine the room – a habit that developed from the nature of his profession. Witnessing for himself that nothing to pull on his strings of suspicion was present, he sank into the comfy cushions of the leather sofa. "Anyway, what role do I get in today's play?"

Shiki smoothly took out his cigarette, as his subordinate quickly lighted it for him. "It's simple enough, really."

"Oh, but that's what you always say, Shiki-san. I would be delighted to inform you how many bones I had broken after your offers!" Sure, Izaya only broke a few bones, but his enemies pretty much died. "Not that I'm complaining, of course. The pay is more than good here, and there is a unique entertainment I gain."

"Well, as I was saying," A puff of light gray smoke traveled up the atmosphere, "it's simple enough. At least, the content of the job is." The middle-aged executive reached for a pile of papers. "This," he slid one of the papers in front of Izaya, and the male brought it up to his face for closer inspection. "Is the information my men were able to gather. Solid facts. Less satisfactory than what you could've done, but it was the best we could play off."

Izaya's stomach churned upon reading through the printed text.

All because he knew this said organization a little too well.

"- They are a yakuza family that is quite renown here for their drug trade and smuggling incidents near the ports. And also –"

"Human trafficking." Izaya finished, as he placed the papers on the table. "The head is Uesugi Kugaha. Chief executives include Goshiki Masamune, Eisuke Kon, and Nejima Katsu. They are known as the Uesugi-kai, and are prominent figures that dwell near Waseda."

Shiki merely listened as Izaya talked. "You seem to be knowledgeable regarding this matter. The only job you had was to find information about their illegal drug trade near the ports – as a few days ago, they got into some useless fight with our men, and that caused some conflict on our part."

"The thing is," Izaya said with perfect calm, "I don't think I can accept the job this time."

At this, the executive blinked, clueless. He slowly processed what Izaya had just told him, and then analyzed the possible reasons behind his refusal. "And is that related to why you are so well-informed with this organization?"

"Quite." Dusting off his legs, the male twirled around the middle of the office. "I prefer avoiding the Uesugi-kai."

"Well, that's a considerable shame. I suppose we'll manage on our own, then. But please do know, that the offer will be up still for quite a while, just in case you change your mind." Shiki stood up as well, following Izaya as he exited the building.

"I'll remember that." And with that, Izaya departed, said organization looming around the corner of his head.

Forget it.

He ate something sweet for breakfast?

Check.

He got his job for today done?

Check.

He mentioned the people who wouldn't pay their fucking taxes for months to Tom?

Check.

He made sure Kasuka was doing fine?

Check.

So why was he so fucking vexed?

Gee, he had no idea.

Maybe because he wasn't able to kill a motherfucking flea again?

God, that had to be the answer.

I'll die of Orihara-shitty-Izaya stress disorder before I get to squash him into pieces. Shizuo grumbled; his back slightly hunched as he stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Shizu-oh!" A jumpy Russian accent was to be heard from his left. The grouchy blonde undid his petulant expression. "Would you like to try some sushi? Sushi is good, Shizu-oh!" The dark-skinned foreigner grinned with pride; the traditional Japanese uniform somewhat suiting him to a certain extent.

"Hey, Simon." Shizuo gave a small nod towards the taller man. "I'm not really up for sushi today, unfortunately. On a significantly brighter note, have you seen the flea- I mean, Izaya?" He managed to smile, his muscles tugging downward instinctively, as if to scream 'YOU DO NOT SMILE WHEN YOU MENTION THAT FUCKING NAME'.

"Iza-ya, huh?" Rubbing his chin, Simon closed his eyes in remembrance. "The last time I saw him was yesterday, near Ikebukuro Park."

Not able to hide his disappoint, Shizuo grunted. "Alright, thanks. Have a nice day."

When Shizuo was just out of earshot, Yumasaki popped through the short curtains, and asked – "Why didn't you say that he just walked past this area like five minutes ago?"

"Well," Simon lowered his head so that he wouldn't crash into the doorframe, "we don't need another dead body near our shop. It'd lower the attraction for the customers." And with that, he proceeded to passing out new flyers.

"Well, that was fast."

"Aw, missed me?"

"Get the hell out of my fucking face."

"Cruel."

Izaya was still feeling slightly queasy after the meeting with Shiki. The Uesugi-kai… the name dug up many long-buried memories, and they weren't necessarily pleasant ones. Namie was packing up her belongings, getting ready to return home and away from what she called a 'stinking prison cell'.

The sounds of her footsteps felt oddly distant – more so than usual – as she approached the doorway. "Oh, by the way," she jutted her head at the long, rectangular table, capturing Izaya's scattered attention. "There was a delivery made from an unknown sender. I didn't open it, because obviously I'm not interested with your shitty personal privacy and whatnot." His gaze journeyed towards the said table, and Namie was right – the package was clean and prim, untouched as it sat on the glass surface. The door closed with a definitive click, and the female was out.

Hesitantly reaching for the package, he ripped it with his blade.

"A… CD." He picked it up with circumspect mannerisms, and inserted it into his CD rom drive. A video popped up, loading. The wheel turned, as a pitch-black screen showed up on his desktop.

I don't hear anything… Izaya sighed heavily. His day could've been going better – but here he was. He pulled up the volume.

Through the speakers, there was a disturbing sound echoing in the background. Panting? No, this is…

"Have you learned your lesson?"

A loud thud resonated, and a piercing scream sprang from the darkness.

He felt like he was just electrocuted – after all – that voice – that scream – that was –

"It's pitiful… Being a good boy would make everything so easier."

"You're lying…" Izaya whispered, cold sweat beading his forehead, as his breathing gradually grew uneven.

"Don't you think so, Izaya?"

A/N: Um… what do you think?

My updates wouldn't be too often, but I'll try – it's midterms soon, you see…

Anyway, thank you for reading!

Todoka Ayane