PART TWO

"It stinks."

"Like what exactly?"

"Shit."

There was a sigh. "You've been saying that since we got here. I don't smell anything, let alone that. Maybe it smells weird because we're not in 'bukuro anymore?"

A blonde eyebrow rose, apparently nonplussed, but nothing else was said as a cigarette was lit. After a particularly quiet moment, he said, "No—it isn't that. It smells like that damn flea."

His partner sighed and rubbed his temples, already feeling a headache coming on. The man had dark, shoulder length dreads, something completely uncommon for a Japanese man. Not like he was a regular Japanese man; his name was Tanaka Tom, a debt collector from the bustling city of Ikebukuro and probably one of the only people able to control a certain blonde-haired bartender. A bartender, who, at the moment, was trying to find his cousin's house—trying being the key word. The directions they had gotten were simple enough—turn left at the train station, right, left again and then you were basically there—but somehow, Shizuo had gotten them beyond lost. Currently, they were meandering around the business section of the city, whatever the hell that meant.

Tom sighed again. "We're lost, aren't we?"

"No."

His patience snapped. "We ARE lost, but you're just too damned stubborn to admit it. Come on; I think I saw a café a little ways back. Let's go there and get directions." And without further ado, Tom turned around and began to walk back, leaving a bewildered Shizuo behind. He didn't even have time to get angry at the debt collector, it was that sudden. Shrugging his shoulders, he followed the irate man towards the café he'd been talking about.

As they neared the infamous building, Shizuo stopped in shock. There—no, no, this had to be a mistake. There was no way in HELL that Tom meant this place. It was just too… cute, too frickin' PINK to be what he meant. Just as Shizuo was about to walk away or, better yet, question Tom's sanity, the man in question waltzed right into the obscene parlor as if he had no care in the world.

Yep, questioning his sanity it was then.

Shizuo stared after him for a few more moments, dumbfounded, before he shook off his stupor and made his way in. He wasn't prepared for what happened next.

There were woman everywhere. Women with dark hair, women with light hair, petite women, pretty women, semi-attractive women, women with glasses… all of them were completely different, ranging from table to table, customer to customer. There was only one similarity between all of them.

They were all in maid costumes. Honest to God maid costumes. Shizuo felt his eyebrow twitch in annoyance, wanting desperately to throw his cigarette on the ground. He didn't though. He was actually being fairly reasonable. It wasn't like they were doing this on purpose to annoy him or anything. Plus, they were girls. No matter how pissed off he got, he couldn't hit a girl. They might cry and no matter what happened, no matter who he was or who he was known as, he couldn't bear to see a girl cry.

"Welcome home, Master!"

There was a twitch. Keep calm Shizuo, keep calm…

The girl, one whose hair was an unusual orange cropped just above her shoulders, smiled brightly at him. Her eyes were a light hazel, something like freshly polished wood, and her skin was unmarred. She was pretty, in a simplistic way, and she seemed fairly nice too; but Shizuo couldn't help grimacing as he imagined her angry, sweet smile and all. He shivered.

"Um, sir? Are you alright?" she asked, her smile sliding off her face. "You look a little pale."

Flustered, Shizuo waved his hands like he was waving the matter away. "Uh—uh—yeah… I was looking for someone…"

The girl tilted her head. "A maid?"

"Er, no… there was a man—with dreadlocks? His name's Tom-san…"

The maid grasped her chin, pretending to recollect her memory, but in actuality, she remembered. Considering that she had only ever seen one man with dreadlocks a few moments ago, she assumed that's who he meant. But dammit! This guy was seriously pissing her off! He seemed completely immune to her charms, almost like some naïve little boy, and she had a feeling he wouldn't stay in the café. The nerve of some people!

She didn't say any of this to him though. Instead she giggled. She was the caring type, after all. "Well, Honoka-chan hasn't seen your friend. Maybe you could wait in the café? We sell all sorts of delicious sweets! What do you say?"

Just as he was about to answer, the ringing of the door signified another customer.

It was none other than the Idiotic Trio, all three walking side by side respectively, clamoring on about some maid named 'Misa-chan.' Frankly, Shizuo didn't give a fuck. Without a care in the world, the three ran into the blonde bartender, causing Shizuo to fall forward a step.

One of them—he had black hair pulled into a low ponytail and his eyes were a slate grey—gave Shizuo an apologetic look. "Sorry, we weren't looking where we were going—,"

The black haired boy stopped as he heard the other man mumbling something under his breath. Leaning forward, he gulped as the words reached him.

"Kill kill kill kill kill kill. KILL!" He threw his cigarette on the floor and stomped it out, looking like an angry child who hadn't gotten a toy he was promised. The man whipped around, his glasses barely suppressing his rage as the three tumbled into a quivering pile on the floor.

"So!" he barked out, taking his glasses off his face. "You just ran into me! You do realize that that had the 0.0000000001 percent chance of killing me? Huh? HUH?!" He grabbed the two nearest boys' shirts. "With that logic, whatever happens to you is entirely your fault, RIGHT?" And, without another warning, he threw the two boys out of the restaurant like they were rag dolls. The landed outside on the rough concrete—the force being enough to throw their clothes off—as the last boy, one with short blonde hair and pierced ears—screamed.

"Ah, Ah! Misa-chan! Misa-chan!"

His voice was grating on Shizuo's nerves—so much in fact that he grabbed the nearest item, which happened to be a metal table—and threw it through the window before grabbing the boy and having him follow suit. Luckily, or perhaps not luckily at all, he landed on the other two idiots, knocking the wind out of all of them.

To say Honoka was shocked would be an understatement. Never had she seen such brute strength! This guy—he had to be inhuman! The only person with such strength that she had ever met was…

"What do you think you're DOING?! THIS ISN'T A BOXING RING!"

Shizuo stopped dead in his tracks. Who…?

Suddenly, a pissed girl made her way towards him and placed her hands on her hips. "I don't know who you are, but this is a relaxing establishment! Just because someone runs into you doesn't give you the right to throw them through a wall! You understand how much that's going to cost?!"

Shizuo stared at her dumbly. The girl wasn't anything special; she had simple, black hair that accentuated her face and light brown eyes, plus a petite frame covered in a maid uniform. She was cute, almost homely in a sense, but Shizuo had seen cuter girls before. Plus, not like he'd admit this to anybody, but the look she was giving him was so intense, so fucking scary, that Shizuo felt it would be better to not mention this fact to her at all. She looked ready to skin him alive.

She had good reason too. The doorway was in shambles; the entire wall broken in chunks on the floor. Granted, it was only dry wall, but he had also broken the window, a bulletin board; he had bent the table in half, creating unusual bumps along the edges; and he was fairly sure he had broken a few limbs of the boys he had thrown into the street.

The point was, he'd lost control. Again.

"Well?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed. "Ehe… I might've went a little… overboard."

The girl's eyebrow twitched, but before she could scream at him more, a woman stumbled upon the scene at the door. "Misa-chan! What on earth…?" She finally noticed the destruction, from the broken wall, to the shattered glass, to the terrified customers crowding the scene, to Shizuo's guilty expression, even to Misaki's pissed one.

All in all, it was a disaster. The woman gave one last look around, clearly shell shocked, before she passed out.

"MANAGER!"

XXX

Misaki was not having a good day.

It was fairly normal, she knew, and completely peaceful, but that's why it was annoying her. Boring, peaceful, mundane days were fodder for a certain blonde-haired, green-eyed boy she knew.

"Misa-chan~"

Misaki gritted her teeth. He'd been saying that for the past ten minutes, in that same sickly sweet tone, and it was starting to wear her thin. But she refused to play his games—refused to be a fool or a toy—and was currently trying her best to ignore him completely.

"Misa-chan~"

It wasn't working.

"Misa-cha—,"

"Will you just SHUT UP?!" At Usui's kicked puppy look, Misaki bit her lower lip, feeling slightly guilty, before she yelled again, "Don't at look at me like that! You've been saying 'Misa-chan' for the past ten minutes! AND WHY THE HELL ARE YOU FOLLOWING ME TO WORK?!"

At Misaki's flustered expression, Usui smirked. "But Misa-chan~ The Manager asked me to bake part time tonight as well."

Manager… please hire proper help!

"F-fine," she conceded, though she still wished Usui would, she didn't know, get a life. The fact that he always seemed to be ready—willing even—to work was a little odd, especially at the capriciousness of her Manager. What did he do with his spare time anyways?

"Ah—we're here." Somewhere during Misaki's thoughts, Usui had made his way in front of her, stopping when he reached the café. Misaki, not really paying attention, ran into the back of him, giving him some sort of awkward hug. Sputtering quickly, she went to remove her arms…

…only to have them restrained by Usui's own.

Though his words were light, his tone was anything but. "Well well, Misa-chan… I didn't know you could be so forward." He spun around, a cheeky grin on his face, as he stared at his Misa-chan, bright blush and all. She looked so cute right now, so ridiculously delectable…

Misaki wasn't faring any better. She was so close to Usui and… and… she could feel her heart fluttering in her chest. Just like his words, he had a smile on his face, but there was something in his gaze—something decidedly primal—that terrified her. He looked like a lion on the prowl, but on the prowl for what she wasn't sure—

Suddenly, Misaki remembered her awkward position. Tearing her arms away from Usui, she bit out, "Wh-what do you think you're doing? Ugh! I can't go anywhere with you without being sexually assaulted! Stupid perverted space alien!"

The mood was broken. The primal look in Usui's eyes left just as quickly as it had come, only to be replaced with a mocking superiority. Misaki absolutely despised that look, but she was sure as hell she didn't want to see those eyes again. At least Usui was still Usui. That much hadn't changed.

"Shall we go, my lady?" He propped the door open with his foot, ushering Misaki in with a wave of his hands.

Misaki slapped those hands away and walked through the door on her own, muttering, "Stupid Usui," as she went, though the words were decidedly lacking venom. Usui feigned a hurt look—something that may or may not have been seen by the obstinate girl—and followed her in.

When he was sure Misaki wasn't looking, he smiled. It couldn't be helped.

XXX

After the incident outside of the café, Misaki had changed into her maid outfit, and had begun serving different customers. Usui, true to his word, stayed in the kitchen and was baking cakes—cakes that made Misaki's mouth water just by looking at them, that made all of the other Maid Latte cooks green with envy. Not like she'd admit that to Usui though.

As she was walking around, she began to think of Seika High's budget, the numbers of the sports festival to the numbers of the new locker room she was hoping to get built. There had been more students joining Seika recently—many more girls, much to Misaki's delight—and it seemed the amount of locker rooms they had weren't going to cut it. Hopefully I can get it done before the end of the semester…

A bell rang. Without any hesitation, Misaki turned towards the door and uttered a bright, "Welcome home, Master!" But she noticed something… odd about the customer. The man was average height, average weight, probably middle-aged… but his eyes were a dark brown, framed by a head of dreadlocks. He was wearing a pair of simple, though probably adequate glasses, and was in a cheap brown business suit.

All in all, he was not the normal customer that entered Maid Latte.

Noticing Misaki's staring, the man stepped forward. "Excuse me, miss?" He had a bit of an accent, Misaki noticed, and though his tone was worried, his gait was relaxed. "By any chance, do you think you could help me? My friend and I are lost—," he shoved his thumb in the direction of the door, "—and we aren't necessarily from around here. Do you think you could help us?"

Misaki blinked out of her stupor and gave the man a shaking, puzzled smile. "Um, s-sure. What exactly are you looking for?"

He rummaged around in his pocket—in every pocket, mind you—before he found a slip of paper and handed it to her. Misaki unfolded the note carefully, hoping that she could be of help to the man. She understood what it was like being lost and she knew it stank. Sucking in a deep breath, she opened the note and read the one line.

It was an address; a familiar address, one Misaki was sure she saw before… Realization dawned on her.

This address…

It was hers!

The man misinterpreted Misaki's silence and said, almost in a bored manner, "It's Ayakusa or Ayukuwa or something like that. Ever heard of it?"

Before Misaki could respond, she heard screaming. Whipping her head up like a bloodhound, she threw the note on the ground and ran towards the sounds of the noise, almost instantly recognizing the screams. But why would they…?

"With that logic, whatever happens is your fault, RIGHT?!" The scene that greeted her was weird—it was like something out of a manga. A tall young man with bleached hair, wearing a bartender's outfit—a bartender's outfit!—was chucking two of the three idiots like they weighed nothing at all. The last one screamed for her, clearly fearful, before he too joined his buddies on the pavement.

That was the last straw.

"What do you think you're doing?! THIS ISN'T A BOXING RING!"

The man turned around, shocked and surprised and somewhat angry, as he was greeted with the seething visage of Misaki. She had her hands balled into fists, her gaze deadly, and she was tempted to start showing this delinquent some manners, but she didn't. No matter how much she wanted to hit this bastard, she was still dressed as a maid and she was still working. She, along with Maid Latte, had a reputation to uphold.

Plus, not like she would tell anybody, but this guy had to be pretty strong to throw the three idiots like they didn't weigh anything at all. Not like she couldn't take him in a fight—she was positive she could take him—but she knew it would be hard or, worse yet, more detrimental to the store. No matter what happened, she refused to destroy Maid Latte.

The man still hadn't answered, but that was fine with Misaki. Stalking forward until she was almost nose to nose to the guy, she bellowed, "I don't know who you are, but this is a relaxing establishment! Just because someone runs into you doesn't give you the right to throw them through a wall! You understand how much that's going to cost?! Well?"

At Misaki's words, the man looked around, almost as if he wasn't aware he had caused any damage at all. An embarrassed, angry look came on his face, but when he spoke to Misaki his tone was surprisingly neutral. "Ehe… I might've gone a bit… overboard."

"Misa-chan! What on earth…?" Misaki froze on the spot. Shit shit SHIT! The manager was coming when half the store had been destroyed and Misaki had been yelling at a customer. She waited for the inevitable out lash of words that was sure to follow, but she heard nothing except for a shocked gasp. Turning around slowly, the only thing she noticed was that her manager, Satsuki, was falling to the earth. She had fainted and Misaki knew she was going to have a nasty crash unless she could get to her in time.

But there wasn't any time. Satsuki fell and Misaki had all the time to yell, "MANAGER!" She waited to hear a thud; but when none followed, she quickly glanced up. The man from earlier, the strange bespectacled man, was holding Satsuki by the waist, a look of annoyance on his face. Then, with a little effort on his part, he placed her gently on the ground, making sure she was comfortable. Misaki, along with the other maids, heaved a sigh of relief, but it didn't last long. The seemingly docile man made his way towards the brute and angrily gesticulated towards the mess. Though he didn't say anything, Misaki could tell the bartender was sorry—almost nervous—as he took out another cigarette.

The brunette sighed. "I'm so sorry about this… mess. My friend doesn't know how to control himself sometimes, but I assure you, we will fix this café. You have my word on that."

After a pointed glare from the smaller man, the blonde said between his cigarette, "Yeah, we'll clean it up. Sorry 'bout that."

Misaki opened her mouth to tell them that an apology wasn't okay, but she was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. Glaring back, she noticed Honoka and gulped when she realized that Honoka…

…had gone black.

"Now Misa-chan," Honoka cooed, though she was a fearful visage dressed in black, "they've apologized and are even offering to fix the store. Really, yelling at the customers…" she smirked, "… is quite wrong indeed."

Misaki nodded her head weakly, fear evident in the way her eyes were widened. She'd take on rapists, thieves, guys nearly triple her size—but when it came to Honoka, she was no match. Quickly turning around, Misaki bowed quickly and said, "I'm sorry for having been so rude!"

The man from earlier waved his hand. "It's no problem, really. You had every right to yell at Shizuo." He thought for a moment. "But we have to get going now. It seems nobody knows about that house—,"

Misaki remembered. "W-wait!" she cried out, grasping Tom's arm so he couldn't get away. "I actually know where that address is located…"

Tom raised an eyebrow, dubious. "You do?"

"Ah, yeah… you see… it's mine. The house you're looking for is mine."

XXX

Stay tuned for chapter three! And remember to review!

About reviews…

To celeste31: Hope you enjoyed this chapter! And thanks for your review!

To alternativefuturefan27: Yes, Shizuo pissing off make for great parts of the anime, no? Though I must admit that I myself am an Izaya fan… But don't judge! I like Shizuo a lot too!