Welcome to this glorious (not really) rewrite! As I have deduced, I am a trash bag who can't get her stories together. With my other story The Ghost of Ikebukuro, I tried to implement too many character ideas at once and ended up stumping myself because I was juggling so many traits and storylines in my head at the same time, so with this one I decided to pull some of my favorite ideas to create a (hopefully) interesting tale...

Disclaimer: I do not own the series. I only own my OC.

The Sought-After Extraordinary

If you were to ever mention the name Amane Kei, you would be faced with either one of two reactions. Your poor schmuck of a listener would either be utterly paralyzed with fear, or they would be filled with disgust. Most of the time it was the former. The rumors about her were quite ghastly for a reason.

She's completely emotionless.

She's some kind of monster pretending to be a student!

I heard that if you chop her arm off, two others will grow out of it!

What nonsense. Those were all middle school rumors, anyway. As of this moment, Amane Kei was digging her nails into the bedsheets as her older sister ruthlessly pulled on her leg.

"Come on, we have to go!"

"Hm."

"We're gonna be late!"

"Hm."

Akira sighed in exasperation. "Well, if you're not gonna get up, I guess I'll just eat that slice of chocolate sponge cake in the fridge."

Kei sat up immediately. "Good morning to you, my dear sister. I apologize if my morning fatigue has inconvenienced you. I will be off shortly."

"That's what I thought."

With a begrudging groan, Kei pushed herself out of bed and dragged her feet all the way to the bathroom, her blankets tangling around her ankles. Akira tapped her foot impatiently as she waited for a minute. That minute turned into three minutes. And then into five minutes.

"You're taking forever!"

"That is because I actually try to look decent in the morning."

"Every time you talk, I get closer and closer to opening the fridge."

The bathroom door slammed open, a fully-refreshed Kei stepping out from a cloud of steam. "I am now ready for departure. Also, may I implore you to refrain from consuming the confection that I have been peacefully refrigerating."

Akira let out a short laugh. "Yeah, okay." Then, just as Kei was about to grab an apple from the kitchen table, she yanked her by the collar and dragged her through the door. "Let's go, or else we'll be late."

The two girls walked side by side, the early morning sunshine making for an obnoxiously bright day. Pink petals absently drifted from the cherry trees lining the sidewalk, covering the ground in flowery snow. It was almost too similar to a manga cliché for Kei to take it seriously, though she still found it very beautiful.

"...and then the dog turned into a giant bird and started talking to me—hey, are you even listening?"

"Not really," was Kei's blunt answer.

Akira sighed and shook her head. She loved her little sister dearly, she really did (perhaps almost too much), but even she had to admit that Kei wasn't the easiest person to talk to. It would always take a few tries before she could hold a conversation, and even if you were able to get her to talk, if the topic wasn't of interest to her, she'd just end up zoning out—which was exactly what she was doing right now.

But Akira was her sister, and she knew just what to say to make her pay attention.

"So, are you excited to see Heiwajima-san again?"

Kei made a confused face. "Why would I care about him?"

Akira laughed. "Oh, come on, don't try to deny it!"

"Deny what?"

"That you two are meant to be!"

Kei narrowed her eyes at her sister. "What on earth are you talking about?"

A disappointed look crossed Akira's face. "Remember? You guys were so cute in grade school!"

Kei thought to herself for a moment. Oh, that's right, they had gone to the same school back then. She never really considered them friends, though—the most she had ever done for him was bring him his homework while he was in the hospital. After they went their separate ways for middle school, they lost touch just as most people do. If she ever saw him around the city or something like that, then of course she would greet him, but that didn't happen enough for her to care much.

"You're being absolutely ridiculous."

"No way, it has to be fate! First, you split ways after grade school, only to be reunited in a high school romance! You'll see, I will unfold the secret rose that is Kei-chan's fiercely guarded heart—ack!"

Kei delivered a quick jab to her sister's stomach, a displeased expression on her face. "Stop saying strange things."

"I'm just stating the facts. Also, you should be more respectful to your big sister!"

"I was being respectful—I would have punched you otherwise."

"So mean! Is this how you repay your loving sister when she tries to make you happy?"

"You are making me more annoyed than happy."

"By pointing out that you're a maiden struck with love?"

Kei huffed and quickened her pace. "I am not a maiden in love," was the best she could come up with as a retort. This entire conversation was dulling the sharpened wit she had spent years cultivating.

"So then those chocolates you brought for him on White Day in sixth grade were totally platonic, right?"

A delicate blush graced her cheeks. "It is completely customary to gift sweets on White Day," she muttered, stalking away as they approached the large gates of Raijin High School. Akira still managed to catch up despite this, continuing to poke and prod at her younger sister.

"Maybe he'll save you from some thugs with that brute strength of his! Ah, how romantic!" she sighed, placing her hands over her heart.

"Why couldn't I just run from them myself?"

Akira sighed, clearly disappointed by her sibling's candid response. "Jeez, you always take everything so literally. Which reminds me," she trailed off as she ruffled Kei's hair affectionately, "try to stay out of trouble, okay? I'm graduating this year, and I need to make sure that my precious sister can protect herself in the vicious jungle of high school!"

Kei scoffed. Then, after a pause, she mumbled, "I will try."

Squealing, Akira engulfed her in a tight hug. "Ah, my little sister is so adorable! So cute, so cute!"

Sighing in exasperation, Kei carefully extracted herself from Akira's iron grip and hurried away with a curt farewell.

Akira couldn't help but call after her, "You know, if you guys ever end up getting together, he'll have to earn my blessing first!"

In an instant, Kei retreated her steps, tightly pinched her sister's cheek, and then dashed away again. Otherwise, she would have been late for class.

Yeah, that promise of not getting into trouble? That didn't last very long.

It was only the fourth day of school, and the metaphorical whiteboard slate that was her reputation had been defaced already, despite just having it wiped clean with the end of middle school. All that work for nothing.

See, the thing that happened was this poor girl in Kei's homeroom had been having some rough times lately. Something or other about her family being in debt because of extortion. Of course, this made her the perfect prey for the juvenile bullies that existed in every classroom dynamic. So when class started that day, Kei wasn't surprised by the fake paper money stuffed into the girl's desk and the crude names written on top of it in black marker.

How cruel.

She could see the tears pricking at the corners of the girl's eyes as she hopelessly stared at her vandalized desk.

"Alright, who did this to Umemoto-san's desk? Anyone?"

Silence reigned throughout the classroom, the only sound being the girl's quiet sniffles. Kei knew what had happened, as she had seen it when she came to retrieve her schoolbag before lunch a little while earlier—she refrained from speaking, though, because she was still waiting to see if someone else would do something.

Of course, no one said anything; the perpetrators weren't foolish enough to turn themselves in only to be punished, and obviously nobody else wanted to be the second victim of bullying if they were to blab.

In that moment, Kei realized the kinds of people that were in her class, and she grew bored of them.

The teacher turned to his teary-eyed student and sighed. "I'm sorry, Umemoto-san, but if nobody comes forward, then I can't—"

"Hanazono-san did it with three girls from the other class."

Everyone turned to Kei, their expressions all a matching palette of shock except for one. A fox-eyed boy, who before had never particularly acknowledged her existence, grinned ever so slightly. The accused girl stood up from her seat, an appalled look on her face. The teacher narrowed his eyes at her.

"Hanazono-san, I'll see you and those other girls in my office," he said sternly.

Hanazono shot Kei a fierce glare, only to receive an apathetic glance in response. Kei did not much care for bullies, and she was no different. She thought it was silly how the girl attempted to instill some sort of shallow fear in her. Why expend that much effort to intimidate someone when you were already caught? Wouldn't it make more sense if you were trying to keep someone from tattling?

She was getting lost in her own thoughts again. At this point, she wasn't sure how she would manage in her future classes if she already got sidetracked this quickly.

After the students had been dismissed for the day, Kei quietly approached the victimized girl's desk. Her shoulders were shaking slightly, as if the sadness from the heartless prank still lingered in her.

Kei waited until the classroom had emptied before placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. The girl flinched and looked up, her dejected expression morphing into one of gratefulness as she recognized the person standing before her.

"I'm sorry they did that to your desk," Kei sighed disappointedly.

The girl looked down at her lap. "It's okay, I'm used to it. T-Thank you for sticking up for me, by the way!"

Kei's eyes were comforting. "It was the right thing to do." Then, glancing at the befouled desktop, she offered, "Would you like me to help you clean your desk off?"

"T-Thank you so much!"

After pulling a couple of handkerchiefs from her bag and offering one to Umemoto, the two girls got to work. In a matter of moments, the desk was rejuvenated to its previously spotless glory.

Umemoto was quick to bow in front of Kei. "Thank you so much for everything you've done for me!"

Kei waved dismissively. "You don't have to be so formal." Sparing a glance at the clock, she felt a shiver go down her spine. I've probably kept Aki-nee waiting. "I should get going. See you tomorrow."

"Thank you again, Amane-san!"

She gave a small wave and left the classroom, tucking the tinted handkerchiefs into her pocket. As she removed her hand, she noticed some black smudges coloring her skin. With a sigh, Kei turned back around and headed in the opposite direction to the girls' bathroom. Somewhere in the distance, she heard an all-too-familiar thundering roar that accompanied a slight tremor in the building.

I should hurry. I wouldn't want to get caught up in that.

After closing the bathroom door behind her, Kei set her bag on the floor and approached one of the sinks. Her attempts at scrubbing away the marks were unsuccessful, and all she really managed to do was smudge them even further, so she gave up and settled for drying her hands.

Just as she tossed a crumpled paper towel in the trash, three other girls entered the bathroom and blocked off the exit. Perfect. She was completely cornered.

Furthermore, how did they even know she was here? And how long have they been waiting just for an opportune moment to jump her?

Hanazono stepped forward from the group and glowered at her. "Just who the hell do you think you are?"

Kei had a disinterested expression, as if the whole situation was beneath her. "What are you talking about?"

"Are you stupid or something? That little stunt you pulled wasn't cool."

"I was not trying to be cool, if that is what you're insinuating."

Hanazono's anger only seemed to grow with each word that came out of Kei's mouth. "Drop the white-knight crap, there's no one here to kiss your ass." She shoved her against the back wall and pulled out her phone. "Here's an idea: I'll just strip you, take pics, and send 'em to everyone I know. How's that for a school picture?" She and her group of friends snickered.

Kei gave them a pointed look. "Isn't that just unnecessary? It would simply be a waste of your time, and there's no point to it, anyway."

"The point is to teach you a lesson!"

She nodded in understanding. "I suppose that is why you cornered me in a room with no escape—and you made sure to bring your friends with you just in case things didn't go your way, right?"

Hanazono's face resembled a ripe tomato as she jabbed a manicured finger in her direction. "S-Shut up!" Then, smiling wickedly, she said, "It's time for a photoshoot."

Kei pressed her back against the wall as the group started approaching her, her eyes methodically scanning the room for something useful. Grab something, anything, her mind shouted. Just keep them away from you!

Just as one of the girls was about to seize her arm, Kei dove to the side, gripping one of the mops leaning against the bathroom stalls. Brandishing it in front of her, she jammed it against the girl's collarbone, a loud crack resonating around the room. The girl shrieked in pain, falling to the ground with a strangled sob.

"What the—!" Hanazono gaped at her in shock before her fists began trembling with rage. "Get her!"

Someone came up behind Kei and clasped their hands around her throat. Swinging the mop back around, she jabbed the end of it into her attacker's stomach. Said attacker wheezed loudly before collapsing to the floor in a sputtering heap.

Another girl pulled a pocketknife from her blazer with shaking hands and foolishly tried to charge at Kei. She winced slightly as the blade sunk into her abdomen, the girl pressing it deeper and deeper until it reached the hilt.

With a crazed look in her eyes, the girl laughed in a mixture of horror and glee. Her victory was short-lived, though, as Kei uppercutted her chin with the metal piece of the mop. The medical bills that would result from her broken jaw would be an ample exchange for Kei's torn and bloodied uniform.

Hanazono gawked at Kei in terror. She had just been stabbed with a knife and she was still standing. Even stranger was the fact that she seemed not to take notice of the obvious blade lodged in her gut, nor did she seem to care about the blood beginning to seep through her clothes.

"W-What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Kei sighed tiredly. It was the same response every time. "I'd advise you not to get too hung up on it."

Before Hanazono had a chance to decipher her cryptic words, the mop in Kei's hand had collided with the side of her head, and she was knocked unconscious.

Bracing herself for a moment, Kei wrapped her hand around the knife and yanked it out of her stomach. There was the ever-familiar pain for a few seconds, and then it was gone. She gingerly pressed her fingers against the skin there, and just as she thought, the wound had disappeared. Quietly, Kei cleaned the blood off the knife, dried it, and placed it back into the unconscious girl's bag. She may have just laid waste to a group of juvenile bullies, but she wasn't a thief.

Leaning against the mop, she looked at the scene before her and sighed. What a mess.

Hanazono was out cold on the floor, and the three other girls were preoccupied with their own injuries—but they weren't down for long. One of them stood up woozily, the fat tears dribbling down her cheeks mixing with the blood on her chin. "Y-You f-fucking bitch!"

Kei retreated uneasily, not knowing what to do. Escape, she needed an escape, but the door was still barred off. Looking up, her eyes caught a beam of light. The window! No, wait, they were on the third floor—well, that certainly never stopped her before.

Kei spun around and cranked the window open with the metal bar of the mop. There was a loud clatter as she tossed it away and heaved herself up onto the windowsill. The bruised and battered girls stared up at her in confusion.

"No way, is she actually—?"

"You can't be serious!"

"She's fucking crazy!"

Without looking behind her, Kei chucked her bag through the window and jumped.

Her first thought was that the ground was much, much, much farther away than she thought it was. Stick the landing, stick the landing, stick the landing! A number of prayers swam through her head. I will wash the dishes every weekend, I will help the elderly across the street, I will promise not to eat Aki-nee's stash of butterscotch pudding, I will—

As she got closer and closer to the ground, she finally found the source of the booming yell she had heard earlier. Said source was continuing his rampage on the athletic field, waving one of the tennis nets around as he attempted to ensnare his opponent. With hair like that, there was no way she could have missed him.

Oh, yes, and there was something else very important that she forgot to mention—yes, right, that he was standing directly below her trajectory of descent.

It was in this moment that Kei suddenly became very aware of her skirt flaring up in the wind. The only thing more humiliating than literally falling into the crossfire between Heiwajima Shizuo and Orihara Izaya was falling into the crossfire with her skirt hiked up to her waist high enough to make a pinup girl blush.

As she hurriedly tried to preserve her dignity, Kei failed to notice the mangled goal post hurtling towards her.

Like a game bird during a successful hunt, she was entangled within the torn net and sent plummeting to the ground.

Shinra stood by the sidelines of the athletic field as he watched Shizuo, armed with a metal sign, charge at Izaya. Swift as always, Izaya ducked out of the way and tossed two blades back at him, one of them scraping the side of the pole and the other slicing across Shizuo's cheek.

The violent exchange had been going on for at least two hours now, and the only reason Shinra stuck around was to patch up both parties by the end of it. Not that he was complaining—he would never pass up the chance to observe Shizuo's ungodly strength in action.

Just then, a bag fell at his feet with a clunk. Shinra eyed it curiously. "Where did that come from?" He gazed up at the sky, nearly falling over in shock after he noticed a figure leaping from the third floor. "P-Person? Is that a person?" Then, as the shadow began approaching the ground faster and faster, he yelled, "That's a person!"

At Shinra's loud interjection, Shizuo paused just as the field's tennis nets were about to leave his hand. What the hell?

This hesitation gave Izaya an opening, and he delivered a sharp gash across Shizuo's chest.

"You're just like an animal, Shizu-chan—your simple mind gets distracted so easily. It's hilarious!"

Shizuo growled and ripped up the goal post behind him with one hand. "You won't be able to laugh when I crush your skull!"

Izaya smirked, suddenly spotting the girl falling above them. Yes, this was perfect. If he could maneuver it correctly, and he knew he already had, then this would be the fateful day where he finally turned Shizuo into the monster he always knew he was.

Although, he certainly hadn't expected to see her falling from the third floor's window. He thought she would choose the more reasonable option of running away from those bullies, but to each their own, as the saying goes.

As long as the outcome turned out to be the same, Izaya would call it a success. This girl, he decided, was to become the necessary sacrifice he needed to permanently destroy the ugly ink blotch on the tapestry of humanity that was Heiwajima Shizuo. He had known that from the moment he heard her rat out Hanazono and the others, and he definitely knew that now.

He did feel a bit regretful, though—he already liked this girl for giving him an opportunity he couldn't refuse. If she were to live through the next five minutes, he would've liked to know her better.

With the swiftness and cunning of a cat, Izaya kicked off the wall high enough so that he was in the air. Just as he predicted, Shizuo brashly hurled the goal post into the sky without a second thought.

Before it could catch him, Izaya dropped back down with a vindictive smirk. "You know, Shizu-chan, you should really pay attention to where you're aiming—or maybe that alone is too much work for your tiny brain."

Shizuo snarled and looked up at the sky. To his shock, there was someone ensnared amongst the mangled strings of the net. His breath caught in his throat as both she and the net crashed to the ground, a plume of dust and debris erupting at the loud collision.

As the dust cleared away, Shinra rushed over to the large crater left by the impact. Shizuo stuffed his hands into his pockets and looked down, ashamed. He had really screwed up this time.

Izaya watched from a safe distance with a satisfied grin.

To Shinra's—and probably everyone else's—surprise, the girl was completely unharmed. At first he had feared that she had been horribly injured due to the bloodstain on the front of her jacket, but she looked completely fine. A little dusty, yes, but other than that, there was not a single scratch on her body—at least not on the outside. The girl gingerly pulled at the netting, attempting to look for an escape.

Shizuo silently crouched down in front of her, tearing open the net with little effort. He offered her a hand, and she accepted it hesitantly, trying not to focus on where the buttons of his shirt had popped open. His palm was rough and calloused but unexpectedly warm.

Now that he could see her face up close, Shizuo felt like he recognized her from somewhere before. After he had pulled her up by the forearm, she dusted herself off and clasped her hands together politely.

"My apologies if I have gotten in the way, Heiwajima-san."

Shinra hid his smile behind his hand after seeing Shizuo's expression. It was clear that he had never been apologized to by someone who had been caught in the crossfire—the surprise was evident on his face. Actually, it would come as a shock in any situation if the person who had been injured apologized to the attacker. Would the world be more peaceful that way, or would it be worse off?

Shizuo's shoulders slouched as he looked away. "Don't worry about it."

"Oh, wow, it looks like Shizu-chan actually managed to catch a girlfriend! Who would've thunk? Although, it might just be impossible for a single-celled monster to feel love, anyway, so I guess that idea has been dashed against the rocks."

Shizuo was just about ready to unearth a slab of concrete and slam it against Izaya's stupid, smug face before all four heads turned at the sound of a foreign voice.

"What the hell is going on?"

There at the entrance to the field stood Amane Akira. Her arms were crossed, and she gazed at the scene through narrowed eyes.

Shinra looked surprised. "Amane-senpai?"

That's where Shizuo knew her from—he faintly remembered there were two sisters in his grade school named Amane. One was older than him, and the other...

Shizuo's gaze fell on the girl whose arm he was still holding, and he quickly let go.

Akira's eyes traveled from the blood on her sister's shirt to Shizuo's hand wavering near Kei's elbow and then to the dented goal post behind them. She marched past Izaya and toward the three other teenagers, the murderous intent emanating off of her in waves. With the way she was glaring at Shizuo, it really seemed like she was ready to kill him. She probably would have if Shinra hadn't quickly jumped in front of her.

He held his hands up. "Aha, Amane-senpai, this is all just a big misunderstanding! You see, Shizuo threw the goal post in the air—"

Shizuo's fists clenched.

"—I-I mean, Shizuo and Izaya were fighting, and Amane-san just happened to get caught in the crossfire, that's all!" Shinra stuttered nervously. "No harm done!"

Akira gave Kei a quick once-over before directing her iron gaze to Shizuo. "You were the one who threw the goal post?"

For some reason, Shizuo was unnerved by her cold glare, despite the fact that she was a good five inches shorter than him.

"Yeah."

"But you helped her out, right?"

"Yeah."

Akira took a deep breath, and her death-dealing glare was suddenly replaced with a bright smile. "You know, you're a pretty good guy!" Then, she grasped Kei's hand and began leading her away. "See you guys later!"

Shinra watched them leave with a puzzled, but nonetheless satisfied, expression. "Well, at least we settled that." He readjusted his glasses. "They're a pretty strange duo, huh? I really didn't expect Amane-san to apologize to you of all people—I mean, you were the one who threw the goal post in the first place..."

"Do you ever shut up?" Shizuo growled.

"Right, right, right."

There was a moment of silence before Shinra stupidly decided to open his mouth again.

"But when she apologized so suddenly, your reaction was priceless! You should've seen your face—"

"Keep talking and I'll rip yours off."

"Ah, my bad."

"You're absolutely sure you're okay?"

"I'm not answering that again."

During the whole journey to the school gates, Akira badgered her sister with the same question while Kei silently planned the quickest way to throw her sister into a garbage can.

After a quiet minute, Akira sighed and stretched her arms behind her head.

"You know I'm just worried about you."

"Yes, I know."

They continued to walk in silence until Kei felt a hand on her shoulder. Thinking it was Hanazono back for revenge, she wheeled around almost instantly, only to be met with the cheerful smile of Orihara Izaya.

"Yo!"

Her gaze was icy. "What do you want?"

"Ouch, Kei-chan is so cold! I just came to return your bag—you left it on the athletic field."

Kei took it from his hand cautiously, suspicious of how this boy so comfortably called her by first name. How did he even know what it was? Was he stalking her?

No, wait, he was in her class, wasn't he? She recognized his face from the time she had walked in early and saw him standing by the window, seemingly smirking down at someone in particular. Plus, despite them being only a few days into the school year, the one and only Orihara Izaya had already made a name for himself.

Still, this little bit of familiarity was not enough to dissuade the uneasy feeling his first impression left on her.

"...Thank you."

He waved his finger at her. "You should really be more careful with your things, Kei-chan! Who knows what kind of creepy person could have rifled through your bag?"

"I am looking at one of them right now."

Akira laughed at that.

Izaya feigned a hurt expression, splaying his palm against his wounded heart. "Wow, I dutifully return Kei-chan's property and this is what I get as thanks? How cruel!"

Kei seemed disinterested. "I should be going." She gave him a curt wave. "See you tomorrow, Orihara-san."

"Please, call me Izaya."

"See you tomorrow, Izaya-san."

And with that, their conversation was over. Kei turned back to her sister, resuming their chatter about unimportant things. Izaya's eyes followed her gait as she walked.

Yes, Kei-chan, he thought to himself. You really should be more careful.

Nobody else had noticed anything during the events that transpired, but he did.

When Kei had fallen to the ground, Izaya could clearly see that her leg was broken. There was a lump poking from her calf at an odd angle, and for a delightful moment, he considered that her fibula had snapped—how satisfying it would have been to nail that into Shizuo's simple mind again and again.

But then she stood up from the destruction, as if nothing had happened at all.

His first idea was that she was incredibly tolerant to pain, perhaps at the same level that Shizuo was—maybe she had endured years of abuse at the hands of her parents? Or maybe she had dealt with self-induced pain at the mercy of crippling depression? The possibilities were endless!

Either way, he was entertaining the idea of unraveling the explanation behind it. But now, as he watched her walk across the flower petals covering the street, his observations proved to be more interesting than he could have predicted—because now, she walked with her hips swaying at an even pace.

Even someone who didn't feel pain at all could not possibly hope to walk normally after an injury of that caliber.

With this knowledge, Izaya made two discoveries. One, she did not have a complete intolerance to pain, and two, there was no bone sticking out of her leg anymore.

Izaya smiled.

Ah, this just kind of ended up being a whole blurb of sentences mashed together, but I wanted to get all of the characters to interact in one big scene. Whether or not I did that successfully... Well, I'll just leave it up to the reader.

I wish to whoever reads this a good morning, afternoon, or night! (＾▽＾)