A/N: And it is time for another random one-shot. Actually, I was reading over an old text message a friend sent me and this idea came from it. This story is set after the Durarara anime ends with the only change being that Izaya did not leave Ikebukero after his crazy fight with Shizuo. Paring is Izaya/Namie, though this is not really a romantic fic. (Seriously, Izaya acting romantic...can't really see that happening.) Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this little one-shot.
Disclaimer: I do not own Durarara or anything related to this awesome anime series.
Just Another Day with Izaya
Shinjuku 8:39 a.m.
For the first time in a long, long, LONG while, Namie Yagari was completely flabbergasted.
Today had started out normally enough-well as normal as it can get when you're an assistant to an immature and impractical sociopath with way too much time on his clearly bloodstained hands. Yes, Izaya Orihara was anything but normal; the farthest from the definition if you want to get technical, but over the last year the former head of Yagari pharmaceuticals had become accustomed to his more than odd behaviors and habits. The days spent with the disturbed twenty-three year old were a cycle of annoyances.
Most days would begin with him yelling like a child, insisting, rather demanding for her to cook breakfast for him or wash his laundry or some other mundane task unbeffiting of a woman who was accustomed to having scores of men wrapped around her finger, following her orders left and right without any questions. What made the outrageous commands even more annoying was the clear fact that Izaya was perfectly capable of handling these tasks by himself. After all, he was a grown man and had been living on his own long before Namie had gotten herself into trouble-thanks to his help nonetheless.
Despite her immediate agitation to any of his requests, she would comply with his orders, albeit with a rude comment here or there and other such things. All the while he would follow at her heels, analyzing every move she made as he picked apart her mind. At times he would even go so far as to antagonize her about her beloved Seiji and how said boy could care less about her. At first, the constant ramblings and chidings about how she was boring and her actions redundant had been far more than she could handle. However, with time she accepted her plight and opted to ignore Izaya as best she could whenever he opened his big mouth.
Ignoring him was no easy task due to how ridiculously strange he was. He played games only he could understand, using chess pieces, checkers, and pieces from some other game Namie didn't bother to identify. With the objects he would secretly strategize mayhem for his so called "precious humans." The young woman often found herself moving those pieces whenever he went out into the city thanks to random phone calls to her cell from him. With a serious tone of voice he would tell her to move specific pieces to random spaces on the board. It was another annoyance she couldn't quite deal with at first but she adapted to his craziness and life moved on.
Izaya would often travel down a philosophical road Namie couldn't begin to comprehend. These discussions were scheduled around sunset on the days he returned from Ikebukero early. He would stand in front of his bookcase, his long fingers grasping the cylinder shaped container that held Celty's lost head. His maroon colored eyes would stare longingly at the glass as he spoke of heaven and his fears of death. In the beginning she thought these ramblings to be another bout of his apparent madness. However, as time passed and the seasons changed, she began to note the hidden sorrow in those same eyes. She didn't quite understand what went on in that numb skull of his, but at times she did catch a glimpse of the man underneath the masks of madness and into the core of his hidden vulnerabilities. The glimpses were extremely rare. An event of even more rarity were moments when he allowed his guard to completely slip in her presence, allowing himself to sink into the depths of emotions no one would expect he possessed.
He was a man of many masks, making it difficult to pinpoint the truth of who Izaya Orihara really was. Deep down, he was afraid and a coward of sorts. Name would never be certain of what his fears were, whether it be the simple fear of death or the fears of never receiving love from any of the humans he so deeply loved. The only thing Namie was certain of was that there was a part of him-no matter how small it may have been-that was simply human like everyone else.
Of course, she never dwelled on these thoughts of him for long. She loathed the man with every fiber of her being.
Well, she keeps telling herself that anyway.
In any case, this was the cycle of her life. She didn't enjoy it but she accepted her circumstances for what they were. It was either this or be thrown in prison.
At this particular moment, Namie is wishing that she'd gone for the latter.
About thirty minutes earlier she had been sorting through some old files for her crazy boss while eating a granola bar. Her brown eyes scanned over vague details of the shady contracts Izaya often organized with secret organizations within Japan and other countries around the world. Stacks of papers consisting of lists, facts, and figures stared back at her as nimble and sore fingers flipped through the pages. Sometimes she would pause over pages that interested her, inwardly noting just how sadistic and cruel her boss could be.
Izaya was seated at his desk as usual, chatting it up with the leader of the Dollars on his computer, yet another nuisance Namie loathed with every fiber of her being. It was because of that runt that she was stuck in this situation to begin with.
The psychotic man laughed suddenly, spiking her interest but not enough for her to pause in working or eating her granola bar. She wasn't in the mood to scold him for being his usual distracting self.
With a single grunt she picked up another heavy cardboard box filled with files and set it down on the table. Brushing her long brown hair out of her eyes she began sorting once more.
As she started placing the files into the designated cabinets in front of her, Izaya laughed again, this time more loudly. Namie turned slightly, her gaze falling onto the bane of her existence for a short moment. He had risen up from his desk to stare out the window. She narrowed her eyes on his reflection in the glass, noting that his maroon gaze seemed to be locking right onto hers. Another groan fell from her lips but she said nothing on the matter, deciding that silence was the best course of action today.
There was a soft chuckle from him. Namie groaned once more, determined to pay him absolutely no attention, though she couldn't help but glance down at her watch. He always left around nine. At this point she was counting down the seconds to her freedom.
A few minutes later she noted the sound of him shrugging on his black fur-lined jacket. She glanced down at her watch again. He was leaving early today. The woman almost smiled, thinking his early departure to be a bonus from the heavens above. Maybe her luck was turning up.
"Namie-chan, I have a question."
Okay, maybe her luck wasn't turning up after all. "What is it?"
"Well, I was just chatting with Mikado," Izaya began, a smile in his voice. "He asked for advice."
"And I should care because..." this sentence was followed by a roll of her eyes as was custom whenever Izaya brought up something she didn't particularly care for. Then again when it came to him, anything he said was cause for that action.
"He's been thinking about asking Anri Sonohara to be his girlfriend, but he's unsure of how to make such a request," Izaya continued, clearly unfazed by her words. There was a sadistic grin on his face now. Namie didn't catch it, her attention focused on the task in front of her. She swallowed the last bit of her granola bar before speaking.
"I thought you had something to ask me," she stated, sounding uninterested as she closed one of the cabinets. "What does the brat asking advice have to do with..."
She didn't get to finish her sentence.
"Namie-chan, would you consider going on a date with me?"
The question came so suddenly that Namie had to grab hold of the table to keep from falling over in complete shock. Her eyes widened, her hair nearly standing on end as she finally turned her gaze toward the devious man behind her.
"Not in a million years," she answered immediately, trying and failing to feign nonchalance as a small blush rose on her cheeks. "You know I love..."
Izaya lifted up his right hand, halting her sentence once more as he rolled his eyes and ran his left hand through his raven-colored locks. "Please don't say it. Honestly, did you even hear what I said? You need a hearing aid Namie-chan."
Namie raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about baka? I heard you perfectly fine."
"Really?" he questioned, that sadistic and dangerous grin returning to his handsome features. "So, what did I say?"
He was kidding right? He had to be playing some crazy game, right? Seriously, what kind of dolt asks a stupid question like that?
"Would you consider going on a date with me," Namie repeated dully, crossing her arms in front of her chest, wondering just what kind of angle he was pulling.
The answer was revealed when Izaya's grin broadened into a full-blown smile.
"I would love to go on a date with you Namie-chan," he answered, taking slow steps toward her while inwardly cackling at the utterly perplexed expression on her face. "Sure, you are boring and predictable to the extreme, but I'm exciting and unpredictable to the extreme, so I believe we'll balance each other out perfectly." He paused in his words, his steps deliberate as he continued towards her. Namie would have taken a step backward, but the table was blocking her planned path. Then again, the shock was hindering her from doing much of anything at the moment.
Taking advantage of her stunned silence he leaned forward, his lips drawing close to her ear as he whispered, "Make yourself look pretty for me doll. That green sweater you're wearing now just isn't going to cut it. Some breath mints might help you too. I am not fond of mediocrity in women." He placed a chaste kiss on her cheek before pulling back. "I best be going now. Can't keep Shizo-chan waiting for me all day!"
Izaya fled the apartment in ten seconds flat, leaving Namie to her flabbergasted state. Her jaw slowly dropped as her gaze turned to the now shut door of the apartment. Over and over she tried figuring out what happened, tried to form words with her mouth, but all she could manage was...
"Your breath doesn't smell like roses either you pig-headed, arrogant, immature, malevolent, sociopathic dunce! I bet you didn't even brush your teeth this morning!"
She couldn't begin to guess why Mikado would bother asking that jerk for dating advice.
A/N: And that ends the story. Hopefully you guys liked it and hopefully I have the characters in character. If they are a little OC, then I apologize, but I think this turned out pretty well. Thanks for reading and have a nice day.
Special thanks to Shadow at Midnight for inspiring this story via text message. (As you can see, Namie was trolled big time by the ultimate troll, Izaya Orihara. XD)