DRRR! is copyright firstly to Narita Ryohgo; the only thing i own is this fic and Miku. enjoy!
The day started out as any normal day: wake up, get dressed, go to school. Endure.
Though why did lunch always have to be such a pain in the ass?
'FWHACK'.
Another nick to the cheek.
Seriously, she had to pick when and when to NOT open her big mouth.
"Still got something to say, bitch?" The more popular girl –and her current puncher—Nakamura Reika demanded snidely, watching the petite girl she'd been unleashing her angst on stumble against the shaded wall, a sneer on her lip-gloss-painted lips; her two girlfriends, Haruka and Yuri, jeered and snickered at either side of her as they looked at the pitiful excuse for an exchange student.
The girl from Osaka had been having a temporarily-calm lunch hour sitting by herself atop the roof of Raira Academy, her new school she had just transferred to from her hometown Osaka; of course Tokyo was bigger and more intimidating than the sea-side city she had called home for fifteen years, but in Osaka she had been taught to defend herself. Taught to fight by her big brother.
The girl was just letting them think they had her down.
She wasn't born yesterday, and she sure as hell would never bow down to the preliminary-prostitutes these 'popular girls' imposed on the girls in her year.
The boy looked over at the scene from his post at the far end of the rooftop, having eaten lunch with his elementary-school friend that was the biggest science nerd he'd ever met, let alone befriended: sometimes he wondered just how and why he had ever become friends with the bespectacled boy.
He felt the slightest hitch in his chest at seeing the new girl get bullied; of course, being raised to never strike a girl but to aid a damsel, he felt compelled to step in.
A nagging feeling in the back of his mind told him one simple word: 'wait'.
And wait he did… though not for long.
Spitting out a thin wad of blood from the corner of her mouth, the cobalt-haired first year opened one baby blue eye up at her offenders' sneering grins.
Those faces sickened her.
"Actually, I do." She spoke in a surprisingly-calm and collected voice, her tone the essence of peace, as she gingerly rose to her feet, standing her full height of five-two before the faces of those girls.
Those girls she loathed.
Nakamura smirked. "What's that, hn?" She wondered.
The sole of a black boot crashed into her nose, before she was seeing stars, sent flying back from the sharp kick of the bullied fifteen-year-old, and crashing into a wooden bench near the chain-link fence that covered the rectangular space of the rooftop.
"You fight like a pussy." She smirked lightly.
"E-eh, Reika-chan!?"
"R-Reika-chan, let's go!"
The two girls that were her best friends, her partners in crime, lifted the unconscious girl and struggled as they did, scrambling away downstairs to the nearest nurses' office.
"Bitch!" They called as they went.
She grinned cheekily at their exit, the tension evaporating with that cheeky expression on her pretty face, before she exhaled and stooped to pick up her discarded and ruined lunch.
Damn, stupid skanks, ruining a perfectly good sandwich… She mentally tsked, ignoring the fact that her cobalt bangs were getting in the way.
A pair of feet stopped walking short of a foot away from her.
"What, come for more…?" She dared wonder in a snide tone, looking up from her crouch to stare at the owner of the pair of feet; she blinked.
"You put up a good fight." The boy commented calmly, seeing the surprise register in her blue eyes that were a soft shade.
Her cheeks flared a slight hue of pink at his praise before she shrugged. "They weren't much of a threat." She mused, resuming picking up her things.
The boy had to give her credit for having a good kick, lifting up her discarded and bent bento box and presenting it to her eyesight. "So I guess you're the new girl from Osaka." He guessed, sliding one hand into the pockets of his uniform pants.
The girl smiled slightly at his aid, taking the box and tucking it under her arm as she straightened to throw away the ruined lunch. "Yeah, just transferred yesterday. Um, thanks for the help." She bowed a little and flashed a light smile up at the lanky boy.
A blonde? He couldn't have been a foreigner, if he could speak Japanese so well. He dyed it? It certainly did match his brown eyes nicely.
"No big deal. What's your name?" He wondered.
She kept the smile. "Kazamura Miku, but Miku is fine. What's yours?" She replied, tilting her head to one side.
He'd never been with a girl, let alone gone out with one, but he would bite that the head-tilt was cute. "Heiwajima Shizuo; s' easier to call me Shizuo." He shrugged.
"So 'Shizuo-kun', then. Nice to meet ya," she winked.
He smiled slightly, inwardly baffled as well as pleased to find one girl that didn't fear him… She must be new, otherwise she would have already heard of his monstrous strength, his temper…
"Hey, Shizuo, lunch is almost over!" Both teenagers blinked simultaneously when the voice of his bespectacled friend called out to him, interrupting the calmness between them.
He grimaced slightly and sent a scowl over his shoulder at the boy. "Idiot…" He grumbled.
"Is that your friend?" She asked, turning his attention back to her and her curious blue eyes.
He nodded and exhaled, lifting a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Regrettably. Don't take this the wrong way, but… you wanna share my lunch?" She blinked in confusion, making a slight reddening of his cheeks flare. "Ya don't have to if ya don't want to, I was just askin'…" He stumbled over his words, looking away as the reddening of his cheeks deepened.
"Geez, you musta read my mind! Haha, but sure." She chuckled, perking his ears.
He looked at her again, not believing what he heard, the blush deepening again when he looked at that light smile that adorned her lips; that hitch in his chest he felt earlier resurfaced when he took note of the various scratches and narrow cuts she had on her pretty face, something in the back of his mind hating those girls that bullied her.
Without another word, he nodded and led the way to where his friend was sitting.
She followed at his heels, poking her head around his back at seeing the bespectacled nerd, noting his wispy brown hair and the strangely-kind look on his face.
"We saw the fight, you were really brave! Oops, I forgot to tell you my name; it's Kishitani Shinra! Nice to meet you." He smiled brightly.
She smiled faintly and sat down near the lanky blonde, nodding her head. "Thanks, it wasn't much; my name's Kazamura Miku, and likewise. I'm sorry if it disturbed your lunches." She chuckled weakly.
"No, not at all! To be honest, you fought amazingly; it was almost like watching Shizuo-kun duke it out… O-ow, Shizuo-kun!" He yelped when his friend cuffed him over the head reproachfully, a scowl on his stern brow.
"Dumbass, just finish payin' her a compliment and shut your mouth." He growled.
He rubbed his head gingerly. "Aww come on, it's not like she doesn't know!" He whined.
She tilted her head to one side. "What about?"
"It's nothing you need to worry about." He declared, waving it off absently and handing her a piece of his sandwich.
She blinked at seeing his offering and smiling kindly, taking the piece and chewing. "It's good!" She chuckled, smiling sheepishly.
The reddening in his cheeks returned to make them look pink before he coughed awkwardly and looked away.
–DRRR!—Seven Years Later-
Even against the thundering beating of the bass at the DJ's booth, he had to admit this was a quiet night.
His brown eyes surveyed the moving bodies of the crowd, many of them loyal patrons to the club he had started bartending at just short of a few months ago.
A head of cobalt hair maneuvered through the throngs, coming up to the bar counter and nimbly situating themselves on a high stool.
"What can I get you?" He asked the new face.
"Cuba Libre." The girl answered, her tone a little sullen.
After getting the drink order, he handed it to her; he had to do a double take when looking at the face he had just given the coke-and-rum drink to.
After seven years, three of them hanging with her whenever he wasn't chasing and putting up with the bane of his existence, he didn't believe she had stayed in Ikebukuro, instead believing that she had returned to the sea-side city of Osaka, her hometown, was Kazamura Miku sitting right infront of him.
Of course those seven years had matured her, made her baby-fat slowly wane and become erased from the face of a young woman, and she had cut her hair, abandoning the mid-back-length she used to have it in during high school for a winged bob that made her bangs shaggy and framed her pretty face nicely.
But something was wrong; he could tell, nearly automatically, it seemed.
The bottom rims of her baby-blue eyes were puffy, and if he had to guess, it was from crying.
That old feeling in his chest, that hitch he got whenever he saw her in worse shape than he would've liked, resurfaced right then and there as he saw the puffiness in her eyes, the sullen and sad glint that showed in her face.
"Bad break-up?" He wondered.
She sipped the mixed drink absently, nodding. "Yeah, how'd you guess?" She wondered wryly.
He inwardly flinched at hearing such a bitter tone come from his high-school friend. "Not to sound cheap or corny, but I can see it in your eyes."
She hummed and smirked slightly. "Didn't know I was that transparent. Can I tell you something?" She wondered.
"Spill." He shrugged, making a show of wiping down the polished wood counter near her drink absentmindedly.
"He's an asshole-motherfucker. Dumped me because of some bullshit term like 'I love all humans, not just you'. Was too heartbroken to land a punch in his ass-kissing face." She growled out, taking a long sip of her drink.
He nodded, his anger boiling beneath the surface at hearing such a thing; what kind of jackass would dump Miku? Was he nuts? Of course he never got up the nerve to ask her out in high school; the few and far guys that took a shine to the blue-eyed Osaka girl usually dumped her within a week or so because they were intimidated by a girl that could just as easily kick their ass as well as kiss them on the cheek.
"Miku?" He asked, his mouth working before he could even register what the hell he had just done.
She looked up from taking a generous sip of her drink at the mention of her name, meeting his baffled brown eyes: her eyes widened in recognition when she looked at the shock of shaggy blonde locks that adorned his head and framed his chiseled face nicely. "S-Shizuo-kun?" She gaped.
A pleased and happy light shone in his brown eyes at her recognition. "Been a while, huh?" He wondered.
A happy-yet-sad smile adorned her lips. "Yeah, really. What's it been, four years?" She asked.
His smile faltered a little. "Four, yep." He nodded.
She laughed softly, bitterly, lifting a hand to run slender fingers through her shaggy bangs. "Fuck, um, I feel like a dumbass for just spilling my guts to you, right now." She smiled weakly up at him.
"I'm a bartender, s' kind of what I'm used to listening to. Only difference is that most of the people who spill their guts are usually drunk guys or really wasted skanks." He shrugged again. "You're still sober."
She chuckled and smiled again, looking sheepish. "Thanks for the compliment. God, it's been forever!" Another giggle, though he had to wonder if the rum was starting to talk the second time around. "Have you been doing this gig long?" She wondered, gesturing to the drink set before her.
He chuckled with her. "Nah, just a few months. Hopefully gonna keep this one longer than I have with other jobs in the past." His cheeks reddened a little at the thought of his fucked-up-temporary-gigs he'd had since leaving high school.
"Temper, temper," she hummed from above the rim of her glass, sipping again, a coy smile playing at her lips.
He felt his cheeks redden, earning the coy smile once more. "Piss off." He chided.
She giggled softly and smiled, sincere this time, reaching across the countertop to poke the tip of his nose. "Been going to college for 2D Animation." She offered.
His nose wrinkled, earning another soft giggle and teasing look. "Right on; how's that coming along?" He wondered.
"Dunno, does having the first chapter of my manga published last week count as good?" She returned, pulling her phone out from the pocket of her black leather jacket to open up her photos, finding the photo of her printed chapter and presenting it to him.
He took the red flip-phone from her hand to study the detailed shonen picture of a girl carrying a katana over her shoulder and staring into the distance that showed on her phone's screen. "That's badass, it looks interesting." He handed the phone back.
She smiled proudly and closed the phone, putting it back in her pocket. "Damn right it is, I worked my ass off just getting the storyboard right." She replied lightly.
"Oi, bartender!" A slurred-voiced man from the far end of the counter hollered.
Both of the old friends grimaced on reflex before said blonde grumbled a curse at his untimely intrusion. "Fucker. Look, um, I gotta get back to work. Sorry." He added, looking at her sheepishly.
She shrugged and extended her hand to put a few bills on the counter next to her glass. "No problem, I've gotta be going; got work tomorrow. Give me your number and I'll text you." She replied, smiling kindly.
That reddening in his cheeks appeared before he handed her his phone, watching her fingers glide over the keyboard as she gave him her number and then input his number into her address book, closing his phone in less than five minutes and handing it to him, clasping his hand and squeezing gently.
She smiled softly, warmly. "See you later, Shizuo." She winked, turning in the stool to hop down and shrug her purse strap over her shoulder, hands sliding into the pockets of her jacket, as she disappeared in the throngs of gyrating bodies and made her way to the exit.
Shizuo smiled after her, turning at last to the complaining patron to see just what the hell he wanted.
A sucker-punch-sandwich, maybe?
:::::::oO|Oo::::::
Rain poured on him.
Damn that flea.
Damn that motherfucking asswipe.
Damn him!
He just knew that bastard was responsible… he just knew he was the reason those cops had bum-rushed him like if he were a friggin' donut stand.
Damn Orihara Izaya!
He was so wrapped up in his fuming thoughts that he didn't notice the rain had stopped pounding on his head.
Blinking once realizing this, he looked to see an umbrella shielded his head from getting pounded on by the onslaught of sky-tears, noting the Union Jack theme the shield had designed onto the outer layer.
"You look like shit." A familiar voice mused at his side, perking his ears.
He looked at the owner of the umbrella and met her calm blue eyes. "Miku." He saw her wink and smile softly.
"You can fill me in later; hungry? I'm buying." She guessed, tilting her head to one side.
Damn it all if he didn't blush at that cute head-tilt thing. It still made his cheeks redden, even after seven years!
"Yeah." He nodded, taking the umbrella from her hand and letting her walk at his side to that restaurant called Russia Sushi.
this was just a trial run, so any critiques/ comments will be greatly appreciated! thanks a mil in advance~ /bows ;'D