Izaya tucked his hands into the pockets of his parka, lips curled into a smirk. "So do we have a deal?" He eyed the three boys in front of him, the one in front counting the money he'd given in exchange for a favor. The one thing they had in common was that they were all wearing something purple. Really, just another bunch of high school kids thinking it'd be cool to make a color gang. But that was what made it interesting, and them being an easy pawn for Izaya to use. Naïve and desperate for violence, which they seemed to think as a 'cool thing'.

"Yes. We just have to hit the guy with orange hair, right?" The boy with a purple cap on his head spoke, looking at the photo of their target.

"Make sure you hit his mouth the hardest. It made me sad that that mouth fed me with false promises. You see, I can't do it myself since he knows me. He ought to seek revenge if I do."

Izaya faked a sigh and added, "Thank you for helping a brother out. It's good that we look out for each other. And ah," he hopped off the box he was perched on to exit the alleyway, "I'll trust you to keep quiet about this from our boss~"

His tone was light, but with a hint of malice behind it, making the boys shudder. They nodded vigorously and watched the raven-haired man leave the site. Why did that man look familiar? The answer was on the tip of their tongue, yet they couldn't seem to remember.

As soon as he was back in the busy street, he tore the purple scarf off his neck; crimson eyes narrowing into slits, "It's so easy when they just welcome everyone in. Surely they'd know better to keep tabs on their members." A small laughter bubbled from his throat, pleased that his little business transaction had gone well.

That'll teach you for not paying me for my services, Takashima-san.

"Isn't that—" He heard someone gasp, and mumbled incoherently in panic. Eyebrows quirked, he turned around to see a man with dreads, whom he recognized as Tanaka Tom, Shizuo's boss. The man flailed his arms to shield his companion's sight. It wasn't working very well, considering Tom was shorter than...

"Shizu-chan? Fancy meeting you here!"

Izaya shouted, and not only Tom, but everyone was startled by it. Their minds quickly registered three things. One, Orihara Izaya was here. Two, he said 'Shizu-chan'. That meant Heiwajima Shizuo was also around. Three, Izaya and Shizuo together only meant trouble. The crowd quickly dispersed in fear of their lives, the brave ones to stay kept their distance and observed from afar.

"Izzzzaaaayaa!" The blond grumbled, stomping over to where Izaya was. A grin spread across the informant's face as he let the scarf fall from his hand. He left his right hand in his pocket, fingers toying with his switchblade in case of an attack.

"That's me. You know, I might just start thinking that you like my name a lot."

Shizuo ignored the teasing, however, and clashed their foreheads against each other. It hurt but Izaya tried not to let it show. "No weapons this time?" He taunted, noting the lack of street sign in Shizuo's grasp. Shizuo clenched his fists in an attempt to calm down, glare boring holes into Izaya's eyes. So close to lashing out. He watched with amusement as Shizuo seemed to recall something, and the blond shut his eyes briefly, taking deep breath. As if that technique would work with his terrible temper, tch.

And that was where Izaya had gotten it wrong. Shizuo had opened his eyes again, and the storm swirling in his orbs dissipated. The look on his face was a rather calm one, without creased eyebrows and a scowl on the lips. Izaya could feel chills going down his spine when Shizuo muttered his name with such a soft tone, palm brushing along the shorter man's cheek. His heartbeat had quickened and he was deeply confused.

Was this a new game Shizuo was playing?

"Hey, why aren't you wearing the scarf anymore?!" He snapped out of his trance to see the three boys he'd met earlier, pointing accusingly at him. "Oh, they caught me." Izaya breathed out. He let his gaze trail over Shizuo once before he quickly took off on his heels, running away from the boys chasing him with a certain debt collector still on his mind.