OMG I AM SO SORRY.
I copied and pasted this from a Googledoc and obviously, FFn didn't like that. Again, I am so sorry!
Please enjoy now (If FFN doesn't do the same to this one...)
One a different note- I will be changing my username folks! I'll be changing it to Gizmo5225 soon.
Besides that, more updates on my profile.
Again- SO SORRY for the inconvienence!
Six o'clock- that's roughly when the sun sets in Tokyo in early April. Frost glistened on the edge of a still fountain, stopped so the pipes didn't freeze and burst. Icicles hung off spindly trees, providing their own cover for the pale branches that nearly snapped under the weight. Walkways were clear, however, as were the benches scattered around the parks in Ikebukuro; it wasn't cold enough for the snow to gather and bathe the city in white for winter.
'I wonder why winter isn't always snowy. Isn't winter supposed to be full of snow? I mean, I know it's April and now spring, but… Isn't winter supposed to be snowy?'
Izaya Orihara sighed loudly, sitting at his desk. His computer hummed quietly behind him as his dark eyes searched the little square below him, watching people rush around in the cold. To the right, a young child slipped, her mother hurrying over; they could be sisters if they were the same age. Two lovers were sitting at a bench before the still fountain- Oooh, he's proposing? How sweet. She is so cheating on him.They frequented the park. He'd seen her with another guy just the day before. A young woman in black was walking quickly across the square before stopping, checking a slip of paper, and walking into the building.
That was unusual; people rarely walked into his building. He knew everyone who lived in the apartments above and below him; she was a new face. No one had moved out or died recently, and she certainly wasn't a prostitute for the man above him who had three different mistresses that his wife didn't know about.
134 seconds passed before someone knocked at his door. It was unlocked, and he yelled as such; the raven watched as the woman in black stepped into his apartment, shutting the door. "Izaya Orihara?"
"Yes. Who are you?" Izaya asked, leaning back in his chair and resting his feet on the desk. "It's five o'clock. I'd be pleased if we could wrap this up soon, I have other obligations to make."
It's always the handbag- if a woman is a spy, or even just a woman who wants to defend herself from rapists or muggers or some other form of human danger, they keep it in their hand bag, right on top where they can grab it. It's never in coat pockets, or boots, or anything like that.
'It's always the handbag.'
He was looking down the barrel of a small pistol, gleaming silver like an antique. "Well, that escalated quickly, now didn't it?"
"You provided false information to my husband," she whispered, her voice shaking. "He wound up dead because of YOU!" She shoved the gun right in his face, pushing him back towards the window. "What do you have to say for yourself, you sorry bastard?"
"False information? Who was the client?" He asked, wheeling away from her towards his computer. "My information is only wrong if I make it wrong. And even then, I don't kill people for the thrill." 'Well, save Shizuo… The world could go without him.'
"It doesn't matter."
Cold metal pushed against his back, between his shoulder blades. 'Curse my habit of leaning forward when I type.'Any bullet would probably drill through his spine- and if that didn't kill him, it'd probably leave bone fragments in the aorta, which would kill him with blood loss soon enough.
"You are responsible for the death of my husband, Akahito Abukara. For this, you shall atone… A life for a life."
Izaya only had a second before that bullet killed him or, if he was extremely lucky (or probably unlucky), paralyze him for life. So he pushed back for his desk, ramming into the woman and letting the shot go haywire. It went straight down beside him, tearing a hole in his chair but leaving him unscathed. Now THAT was lucky. But again, he didn't have long.
Choices were limited to the very pissed-off woman on the floor…
Trying to make the door and probably dying…
Or the window.
'Well, I always did want to try skydiving,'the raven thought. Then he waved at the woman, leaping headfirst through the window.
The canal- oh, he'd forgotten it. It'd been silent since November, when the first snow came. It had only recently turned back on, and now the water flowed slowly beneath him. From three stories up, most action movie heroes would survive.
It's weird, how when he jumped from high up there was that moment of weightlessness; everything in perfect balance, not moving, and he was floating.
Then the wind picked up, and he saw the water coming up. It'd probably feel like hitting concrete with his speed. But he smiled anyway. Better this slim chance than a bullet between the shoulder blades.
Izaya hit the water with a burst of water, soaking a young woman walking by with her groceries. She couldn't see what had caused the huge splash, but looking down into the canal, she saw nothing. Picking up her soaked groceries, she moved on, annoyed and starting to freeze.
Meanwhile, the raven slid along the smooth walls of the canal, already feeling the cold creeping into his bones as his clothes tried to drag him down. He found a foothold eventually and dragged himself out in a quiet section of Ikebukuro, near where he knew Shizuo lived. His left side burned- the impact had felt like hitting concrete- but he stood up shaking himself off as he started walking. He could find other accomodations; perhaps Mikado Ryuugamine would put him up for the night…
"IZAYA ORIHARA!"
Izaya turned, wet hair sticking to his head, and saw police. 'The fucking police.
'The police.'
So THAT'S who the woman was referring to. Of course it had to be that one… Perhaps he was set up? It would be simple enough to lead him on a false trail. With the internet, anything was possible nowadays. It had to be- he'd recorded the information accurately, as always, and shipped it off. No modifications. No games. He didn't play games with government officials.
'A life for a life.'
They wanted him gone. What better justification than leading a government official to his death with false information? What had prompted them to take action?
A bullet whizzed past his ear. For once in his life…
Izaya Orihara feared that tomorrow may not come.