Author's Note: Hey everyone! Thanks for reading the last chapter (if you haven't read the last chapter yet, please read and review! I'd appreciate it!). I'm sorry it took so long to update; I was trying to figure out the best way to proceed with writing the story. It's still not perfect, but I hope you guys enjoy it anyway.
DISCLAIMER: "Durarara" (manga and anime) belongs to its creators and distributors, so all rights to the original plot, characters, and settings go to said higher-ups. I'm literally just a fangirl who doesn't actually have a lot of spare time but likes to pretend she does in order to write these things. I own nothing but my OC (and any future OCs I might come up with) and my silly little fangirly plot here.
Please drop a review if you have the time! Thanks, and I hope you enjoy!
Namie Yagiri packed up her work quietly and shut off the desk lamp, only then noticing the golden afternoon light that filtered through the blinds and washed over the walls. It's that late already, huh...she thought to herself, and momentarily wondered where Izaya could have gone. After becoming Izaya's secretary, she had quickly discovered that she could come and go almost as she pleased; Izaya was always out somewhere in the city, either collecting information from his sources or finding ways to use that information for his own personal enjoyment (and almost always at the expense of others). On this particular day, Izaya had left before noon and still hadn't returned by the time she finished the research he'd asked her to do, and by the looks of it, he wouldn't be back anytime soon. She figured she was free to go.
Come to think of it, Izaya did mention something about another one of those suicide pacts, she recalled as she locked the office door. She thought back on the many people Izaya had fooled into thinking he was their ally, and she couldn't help but the faces of those high school girls terrified of the prospect of facing their futures alone, those middle-aged men broken by the monotony of everyday life, those young women crushed by the discovery of their husbands' infidelity... She shook her head in disgust. What a sick obsession.
*.*.*.*.*
"So I'm guessing it didn't go well?" Celty held her phone up to Shizuo's face. He smiled resentfully at the question and lit a cigarette. "Nope. He was a nice old man and everything, but something about the way he talked to me pissed me off," he replied, exhaling smoke. After a moment of hesitation, he added, "He spoke really slowly and had this stupid smile on his face the entire time. Like he was talking to an angry kid or something."
Because you sort of are like an angry kid... Celty thought, and found herself giggling. It was times like these that she was glad she didn't have a voice. Shizuo wasn't one to tolerate being laughed at. "I see..." she typed into her phone. "So you're not going back?"
He paused. "I'm afraid he'll piss me off again and I might beat him up," he responded slowly, as if contemplating each word before it passed through his lips. He grunted in frustration, furrowing his brows and pushing his sunglasses up. "But...Tom-san thinks I need professional help. He says my anger gets out of control."
Celty pondered the situation for a moment. Well, I guess Tom-san could be liable for any damage Shizuo causes, she decided. She shuddered at the memory of running into that woman with her bike, recalling the panic that had consumed her when she first realized the severity of her situation. She couldn't bring herself to flee from the scene because she knew she would have been unable to cope with her guilt had she left the young woman on the floor of the alleyway. The only other option was to stay and take responsibility for her actions. How terrible it might have been had the woman been seriously injured! Is this what Tom-san has to think about whenever Shizuo beats someone up?
The recollection of that frightful evening brought her back to the situation at hand. "Oh, wait! I have something..." She typed frantically, suddenly remembering the piece of paper in her pocket. She hastily withdrew a card from her breast pocket and held it out to Shizuo excitedly.
"What is this?" He grumbled, plucking the paper from her hand. Great, another business card... He looked it over in silence. "Dr. Miyako Kumasaki, Ph.D." was printed in a pretty blue font at the center of the card, and just beneath it was the doctor's contact information.
Celty watched nervously as Shizuo glared at the business card and found herself growing increasingly perturbed as time passed in suffocating silence. Oh no...I didn't offend him, did I?! She desperately tapped words into her phone as the possibility dawned on her. "Wait, Shizuo-san...I just wanted to help. You don't need to go if you don't want to."
He snapped out of his trance-like concentration and sighed heavily, seeming to have fought an urge to have another outburst. "It's...I guess it can't hurt to try," he reasoned, though failed to disguise the skepticism in his voice. "Where did you get this?"
Celty recognized him to be more pensive than angry and relaxed a little. Relieved that Shizuo was at least considering her suggestion, Celty was eager to respond. Still, the backstory was embarrassing, and she hesitantly held the screen up for Shizuo to see. "A few months ago, I hit a girl with my bike," it read.
"You what?!" Shizuo blinked at her incredulously. After a moment's consideration, he chuckled to himself. "You look so intimidating and aloof, I bet the look on her face when she saw you was priceless." He snorted.
"I...I didn't really see. But anyone would make a surprised face if they saw someone charging at them on a motorcycle," she mused. "Anyway, I was running from Kuzuhara and I didn't see her in time, and then I hit her."
"That relentless asshole should just give up on you already," Shizuo grumbled, dour expression back in place as if the corners of his mouth hadn't so recently been upturned into a smile. He cleared his throat. "But, uh...so she didn't get too badly hurt, then?"
Celty nodded. "She fell over and couldn't stand for a while, so I helped her up and apologized. She was really nice about it and invited me to discuss the situation with her over coffee," she typed. After a brief pause, she added, "I didn't drink anything, of course."
"Right...so you talked it over and then she gave you her business card," Shizuo figured, turning the card over in his hands and folding the corners out of nervous habit. Celty watched in silence as he continued to make creases in the card. She could only hope he was seriously contemplating the situation.
Suddenly, he straightened his back and tucked the wrinkled card into his pocket. "I'll think about it," he declared, voice steady and eyes unwavering. Without warning, he casually redirected the conversation elsewhere. "So how's the head-hunting?" he inquired. Celty knew the discussion about his anger management issues was over.
*.*.*.*.*
How troublesome, Izaya thought to himself as the three ladies before him lamented their miseries and compared methods of suicide. He tried to shift his gaze from woman to woman as he followed the conversation, but he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from Tomo.
It wasn't as though she was particularly attractive - certainly not compared to Chiharu, the pout-lipped, doe-eyed high school girl on her right, or Maki, the tall, sultry businesswoman on her left - nor had she anything particularly profound or even remotely interesting to contribute to the conversation. She was annoyingly sheepish in even her smallest gestures and seemed to have remarkable difficulty looking at any one person in the eye for any period of time; her attention, therefore, was always on her own feet. Put bluntly, Izaya thought her to be a wholly unprepossessing woman. Even so, she was the only woman of the three who hadn't so much as touched the tea Izaya had so painstakingly served her. He was growing increasingly perplexed and annoyed as to why.
"Tomo-san, won't you have some tea?" he coaxed gently. "I know it's not much, but I really would like you to feel comfortable..."
She merely shook her head, gaze glued to the floor. "I'm fine for the time being. Thanks," she insisted meekly. "I'm just not thirsty, so please don't be offended."
With that, Izaya was left still troubled by her refusal to drink the tea. Not even a drop, he noted. What a strange woman, refusing a man's kindness like that. He smirked at the thought.
"Nakura-san?" Maki called, bringing him back to attention. "About the possible methods, Chiharu favors gunshot, but...I would prefer jumping off a bridge or a building. Wouldn't that be faster? Do you have any other ideas?"
"Poison," Izaya said definitively, but was startled to hear Tomo's quiet voice alongside his. He shot her a sidelong glance. "Poison is painless," he reasoned, flashing a tender smile at Maki. Still, he couldn't get over Tomo's uncooperative behavior. I wonder what she's up to...? he thought.
Suddenly, Chiharu slumped down in her seat. "I'm feeling...numb..." she whimpered, surprise evident in her panicked expression. It looked as though the drugs were affecting her first.
Izaya didn't notice that Tomo's head had snapped up in realization, nor did he notice the uncharacteristically intense expression that had replaced her normally lackluster one. It was as if the sight of Chiharu's paralysis had finally brought Tomo to life.
"Oh, my. Are you alright?" Izaya asked, feigning concern. He temporarily forgot about Tomo and leaned over Chiharu to watch as her eyes clouded over. "Perhaps you're just tired. But as for the topic of methods: poison seems to be our safest bet. It won't hurt."
"Wait a minute, is she okay?" Maki asked. She attempted to stand up and check on Chiharu, but found her legs unable to support her weight and crumpled to the floor.
"I agree with Nakura-san," Tomo announced calmly, completely disregarding the sorry states of the two women beside her and glaring directly at Izaya. He was slightly taken aback by this new side of Tomo. When did her face become so impassioned? When did her voice become so resolute? "Poison is so clean and doesn't leave a mess like gunshots do," Tomo added.
Izaya darted another glance at her, this time not bothering to conceal the irritation in his eyes. Is she trying to compete with me? he thought. Perhaps she's not quite so dull as I'd thought...He slowly turned to face her, completely turning his back on Maki and Chiharu. His unsettling smile became a sneer. "You're absolutely right, Tomo-chan. Poison is also difficult to detect in the bloodstream."
"I..I can't move my legs!" Maki gasped, calling attention back to herself while struggling to keep herself upright. She couldn't believe what was happening. Were these two nutcases seriously ignoring her? She noticed Chiharu was blinking in and out of consciousness, eyes unfocused and mouth slightly agape. Maki felt herself becoming dizzy. "Nakura-san, Tomo-san...help!"
Tomo did not so much as look in Maki's direction, and instead focused her steady gaze on Izaya, who was now seated across from her. "The best thing about poison?" She never once looked away from Izaya's eyes as she spoke. "It's so painless that you won't even know you're going to die until it's too late."
"The tea!" Maki gasped feebly. Her heart quickened in her chest as the sickening truth struck her. She opened her mouth to scream, to call for help, to beg for her life...But her voice was too weak to carry her words, and before she could stop it, her consciousness had slipped away.
Izaya stood abruptly and approached Tomo like a cat ready to pounce, still paying the now-unconscious girls no heed. He stopped when he was towering over her and leaned forward to peer into her placid face, a seductive grin adorning his own. His icy gaze scanned her eyes for a crack, a weakness, a chink in the armor. When he found none, he cupped her chin in his hand and tilted it upwards forcibly, hoping to intimidate her if nothing else. "Just who are you, Tomo-chan?" he purred, his melodious voice ominously inappropriate for the given situation.
"Perhaps I should ask the same of you," she retorted. She casually tore her face from his grasp but otherwise made no effort to recoil or to retreat; she simply sneered at him as he stared her down. "What game are you playing? Don't pretend you didn't drug their beverages."
He snorted dismissively at her accusation, but he couldn't keep the amusement from creeping into his eyes. "The way you were talking, I'd have thought you were the one who drugged them, my dear Tomo-chan," he teased, breaking into a grin.
"Of course not!" Tomo proclaimed, simpering back. She leaned forward in her seat and narrowed the distance between their faces once more, refusing to turn away from his relentless glare. Clearly, Izaya thought, she has no idea who I am. "I'm not quite as despicable as you are, Nakura-san. Rendering them unconscious would defeat the purpose of my being here in the first place," she crooned, her honeyed voice dripping in his ears.
"Oh?" Izaya asked tauntingly, unfazed by her impudence. After all, he couldn't exactly say he was innocent of sassiness himself.
Without warning, Tomo's expression shifted into one of cold disaffection, her penetrating eyes devoid of humor. "What an annoying little prick you are, impinging on those girls' rights to decide their own futures like that." With an exasperated sigh, she continued, "I would have been perfectly content watching them follow through with their pathetic plans to kill themselves. Little did I know one of my lab rats would try to drug the others and get in the way."
"My, you are fascinating!" he laughed gleefully, taking a step backwards and straightening his back. "For all of my undying and indiscriminate love for mankind, I was really beginning to think you were hopeless!" he jeered, then cleared his throat and crouched down before her, tired of having to look down whenever he addressed her. "But you see, Tomo-chan, I think you were getting in the way of my plans just as much as I was getting in the way of yours," he scolded playfully, wagging his finger in her face.
She rose from her seat, forcing him to stumble back a few steps. "Then I should hope we don't cross paths again, Nakura-san. I have no interest in playing games," she said, but her coquettish smile suggested otherwise. Nevertheless, she'd slipped past him and made her way to the door before he could stop her. "But if we do happen to meet again," she called from the doorway, "I hope that you'll have enough sense to stay out of my way," she warned, nodding at the unconscious women. She saluted him mockingly then silently closed the door behind her, leaving Izaya to listen to the fading drum of her purposeful steps as they receded into the distance.
"No promises made there, my dear Tomo-chan," Izaya giggled. He dropped his gaze to the sleeping women on the floor and chuckled once more. How fascinating humans are.
Sorry if it's a little hard to follow or too out there. I'm trying to come up with subtle ways to fit my plot and character to match the original characters. It's tough. Again, any critiques or commentary are highly appreciated! Thanks for reading.