Izaya Orihara plans crumbled like block towers right underneath his button like nose. Now, may it be he is angry, or pissed (same thing anyways) he was never one for being emotional.
Yes? Yes, so very true.
Poor guy, thinking he was the mastermind of this all. Only a small part, he may be a king, but a king alone. Not a queen, nor a knight, he was everything in sight. Thought, he had an secretary, that went by the name of Namie Yagiri, who had swiftly noticed the change in air and behaviour of this young man, that she had briskly closed the door, her cloak of hair following her as she left.
She has been working under him for nearly an year now anyways. She knew his quirky behaviour, his allergies, hell, even his (non-existence) love life! (How she knew, even she didn't know!) He noted, on how smart she was leaving him. He would have crushed her just the way he crushed the delicate pen that once had been living the life of one.
But now, it laid shattered, and disfigured among his desk, which everything was splattered with ink.
It reminded Izaya of blood. But, blood didn't dirty his hand, only pen stains. Which was temporary. The things that stained his hand was nothing, not a single crime, or blood! Maybe his, but others...they always landed onto someone else. Hah. He could never get caught doing such a crime.
He didn't do crimes, he loved humanity anyways. It was just, well, to say, simply studying human behaviours or characteristics when placed in such a problematic problem that causes them to do such horrifying things.
Yet, this wasn't a human study, no, such of that wasn't involved. It was his own emotional turmoil he was being put through.
Izaya couldn't stop doing was gripping his own fist, as he sat in his boss-like chair, looking out into the city. His eyes, calculating the outcomes of each formula he was creating.
Devising a new plan was quite hard.
Especially if you didn't have any, any new information of his (I dare say not) pawn. He snorted into nothing, only air molecules as he thought of the information he had gathered from the one and only Mikado Ryugamine. Or so say, Tanaka Toro.
Swivelling his chair around, he decided it was time to wash his hands off. And get a new plain black shirt while he was at it.
As she walked to his kitchen speedily, he was frowning. And when he frowned, it meant the world was ending in a few seconds...Just kiddin'. No, he was frowning at the thought of Mikado Ryugamine.
Like seriously, as Namie put in her way, he failed when observing people. Which Izaya had strongly agreed to. Turning off the faucet, and wiping his hands clean after 20 minutes of washing, he was sure he scrapped off most of the skin that was supposed to be on his hand.
Oh well, as long as they were clean. Looking at the mess he caused at the desk, as he plopped himself comfortable onto his chair, he decided, he would get Namie to do the cleaning!
Making himself comfortable, he looked towards his "game."
Was it his anymore? Or was he letting it run loose? Izaya looked at it carefully, at all the scattered pieces of the 3 games. His 3 kings/queen had learned of each other, and no longer was a threat. But he had compromised, easily still being able to create a gang war between them, just a little tweaks, and time, it could all come together in all due time.
Devious plans came together in his head, with each consequence that came with them, but they were only a last resort if he was ever caught. But that rarely happened. His frown, was turned upside down, as he began to rearrange the pieces into each place.
This would is quite a good game board. "I've finally done it!" He smirked, staring gravely at his bookshelf, specifically what was in the bookshelf.
Celty's head.
Everything would become war...
Rushed footsteps startled him pout of his trance, bringing him back to the harsh whip of reality. His head turned mechanically as Namie burst in, looking flustered, and as if she ran a marathon.
Izaya causally leaned back, stretching his arms across the top of his couch. "Police tryin' to catch ya Namie-san?~"
He was in a good mood, knowing his game plan had changed, but this would be much, much better than the other one!
Surprisingly, she didn't retort, but slightly nodded. His eyes widened a fraction, before disappearing as fast as it appeared. Her whole body heaved, as she tried to catch her breath, she was glad she wore her old shoes, other than the high heels before then.
Perspiration laid a small coat of itself on her skin, sticking to the fabric of her shirt she wore. Bending back to stretch, she could feel the stare burn a whole through her, she might as well say it. '"I-Izaya, there's a fight outside. Near the park."
He lifted his eyebrows uncaringly. Probably Shizuo and some unfortunate person.
Namie exasperatingly sighed. And rolled her eyes in annoyance. "The girl everybody is talking about is out there fighting! Pink hair and green eyes right?" Izaya was slowly gathering the strength to lift himself from his lazy state he had placed himself into. Namie continued: "She's fighting that blond Russian mercenary that hangs around Shizuo, who is also fighting!"
"Russian?" Izaya questioned, finally picking himself up , and as right now gathering his trademark jacket from his chair he placed in on.
He could hear Namie face plant herself. "The blonde girl I fought with once before!"
Wearing his jacket, he looked towards the door from the window. Cocking his head to the side, he gave a sadistic smirk right across to Namie. Who felt herself, wondering is she had done the right thing. He was in a good mood ; she could tell.
His sinister stare would most likely kill a warmhearted person. But she, was cold-hearted, and he was cruel. She could stick by him for the time...
"Aren't ya comin' with me, Namie-chan?~" And she then felt that the little love she felt for her brother melt away, leaving someone else to fill in the place.