A/N: Ch 2 is up!
Shadow knight1121, Thanks xD!
Awesome, Thanks ^^
Mysterylover2427, Thanks! And yea, I'm most likely going to continue this story xD
LadyDeadmau5, Thanks! I find it very hard to write Izaya (well, I find it hard to write every Durarara character) sooo. . .xD
ChaoticDiamond, Thank you! ^^
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN DURARARA OR IZAYA ORIHARA'S MAGNIFICIENT BRAIN
Enjoy~
Broken Normalcy
Ch. 2: Offers and Heiwajima Shizuo
.
.
.
She felt the eraser shavings around her desk to be much more interesting to observe rather than the faces staring into her private bubble. Each eraser shaving representing a person. Each person representing a color.
Miyamoto Kaori was a simple blue. She was calm and focused, but easily brought down by her peers because of her family being outrageously poor. Her eyes were vibrant and stunningly patient; something Koto amused in because of Kaori-san's silent outbursts. Clenching her fists when she was angry, the slight twitch of her jaw, the miniscule huffs of breath that she took in order to secretly calm herself; observing her had made her feel somewhat strange.
Takeguchi Watari was a dark purple. He was an aloof character and frequently spent time alone in the library, where he always looked at medicine books. Koto had always noticed his cautious eyes and involuntary twitches that were mostly instinctive whenever he was nervous. He wanted to be a doctor in order to find more treatments for his mother's illness. Judging by the rumors and the books she stole glances at, Mrs. Takeguchi had tuberculosis. . .
Etc. Etc. Etc.
She flicked them off of her desk, the pencil shavings dropping onto the ground; one by one, like falling dominos.
Her eyes, now glazed over impassively, turned upwards unto the crowd of students that were staring at her. Probing her personal bubble and breaking like it was nothing.
Ostracize: To exclude from a group or society.
That sounded nice. They wouldn't come closer to her, but chose to watch her from afar, and she would relish in the world of observation. Her own little world of artful perseverance and simplicity. The classmates in her room, safe in their personal social networks; away from the skeptical, away from the obvious, away from the observant.
Two pencil shavings remained.
No one stayed. That's why she was the first one to leave before she could develop unnecessary thoughts.
No one but Miyamoto Kaori and Takeguchi Watari stayed by her involuntary side, peacefully situated on the border of distance, yet just enough to be near her. They didn't involve themselves, they didn't know of her problems. They stayed. The personifications of blue and purple swirling together, silently trying to pry her grey apart and absorb it into them.
Never was that happening again.
Because one was dead, and the other was—
"Furukawa, you're a coward."
"I know."
No pause. No hesitation. No interference. It was simply the exchange of words between two individuals before she was the first to turn tail and leave for the safe confines of her apartment. Because she was Furukawa Koto. A divine introvert; a legendary coward.
Because she was Furukawa Koto; an observer of the world. An involuntary suspect of tragic ends.
That's why Normalcy was always so much better.
Furukawa Koto was by no means stupid.
She knew how to get out of situations with careful analysis and observation. Should it make a turn for the worse, improvisation was always a welcome idea. However, that was not the case here. In fact, her problem seemed quite simple, if not confusing. However, the person causing her trouble seemed to hold no limits at all. Her large yet endearing problem lied in the frustratingly simple fact that the very enigma she swore to look into simply wouldn't Leave. Her. Alone.
A knock. "Koto-chan~."
She stayed in her room, swishing her paintbrush onto her palette before beginning her ritual process of test, test, swirl, and then place it on canvas.
Another enthusiastic knock. "Koto-chan, I know you're there."
She placed her paintbrush down next to her palette and made a reach for her phone, which was very far away from her desk, and she failed splendidly in an attempt to make a grab for it.
Thump.
A pair of red eyes hovered over her as she blinked away the stars moving over her head.
"Orihara-san." She said impassively. Her eyes slowly trailed upwards to her phone. . .which was still on top of her desk. Fuck.
He broke out into a smile, "Koto-chan."
She frowned. "It's rude to break into people's houses without permission. I could sue you for that."
He waved her off, making no attempt to help her up. "Geez, you make me sound like such a hostile person!"
Koto pushed herself up into a half-sitting position, using her elbows as leverage as she briefly felt Izaya's hair brush against her forehead. Her hair was a mess, she realized as she then looked at her hands, which were caked in paint. She rubbed them on her stained apron. "What did you come here for?"
His ever-present smile seemed to be permanently glued to his face. "Straight to the point I see." He clapped his hands together. "Now then, Koto-chan, what if I said I wanted you to do me a favor?"
"No." She spoke while continuously wiping off the red paint from her hands.
He paused for a second, his eyelids lowering for a moment before returning to its original state, "Really?" he sneered, "I thought you wanted to risk it? Didn't you want to see me break?"
"Isn't that what you're trying to do with me too, Orihara—"
"Izaya." He corrected, lifting a casual finger as he stood up and settled himself on her bed.
"Izaya-san." She began peeling off her apron. "You're not stupid. Are you really planning to ask me this when my answer is clearly no?" She had become extremely cautious, waiting for his every turn, the moves he would make, knowing that he controlled her, and she had little say over that.
Maybe meeting one of Ikebukuro's strongests had made her gain some sort of will to talk back.
Then again, wasn't that bad as well?
Izaya shrugged half-heartedly. "As fellow cowards—I believe those were your words—I would like you to do me a favor. I'll do the same for you, of course. Sometime later."
Koto paused, her head craning over to glimpse at the black clad figure on top of her bed as her eyes found her way to his. The easy-going, yet calculating stare that he was giving her made something uncomfortable pool into her stomach as she stared back equally, calculating, forming observations in her head; his sitting pattern, the way he spoke, the small flickers of something foreign yet fearful gleam through his eyes. Of course, she would never accept the deal, unless she owed him something; then it wasn't her business to acquiesce. Naturally, she imagined his favors being too elaborate and downright scary for her liking. After all, she was not stupid. Her self-preservation and elaborate planning of retaining a "normal life" practically revolved around the prospect of avoiding un-normal people.
Example number one was laying on her bed.
And before she knew it, she felt a hand grab her waist and pull her down onto the bed as well, feeling his breath tickling her hair as they continued staring at each other; calculations, observations, skepticism.
Koto was the first one to break eye contact, making no move in removing his arm. "No."
It was quiet.
His eyes narrowed for a moment before returning to their original state. "Really?"
Marshmallow walked into the room and pounced. Izaya left with three claw marks on his right cheek.
A paintbrush fell, clattering onto the floor. Koto flinched.
It had been happening all day. Her unnoticeable but definite flinches whenever something hit the ground; the way her eyes almost widened a fraction whenever she looked out the window, the feeling that she was being watched.
Her list of worries were surprisingly endless.
Damn Izaya Orihara. It was the way that he looked at her. That sly, yet underlying look that practically screamed (from years of observation) "we'll see about that" when she refused his offer. Seemingly, she was suffering from his previous words at the moment, feeling jittery feelings all over as she played back the scenario for the millionth time in her head, reanalyzing the look in his eyes, the intentional ominous gleam that he had preserved for her.
"My, my, Koto-chan. Isn't someone off their rails."
She felt the corners of her mouth twitch slightly upwards.
How stupid was she? Normalcy was an impossible dream from the start, and she had yet to realize it until now. . .
Her smile digressed into a frown.
"Furukawa, you're a coward."
She was simply hiding under a veil of fake shields and reassuring words; and ultimately, the most hazardous and unassuming force manage to crawl its way into her life and ruin it.
"You're disgusting."
How troublesome.
The smile didn't crawl back, but something bubbled in her stomach. She let him crawl in. She was the one who had exploded into fits of laughter and made it her obligation to bring him—a stranger with no connections but the fearsome rumors surrounding him all the time—down with her. Sooner or later, whatever force she'll end up in because of him will be the cause of her downfall, because she will stay until the end. Because the enigma that had grabbed her wrists and ran with her like no tomorrow had provoked her, and she took it further. And ultimately, Furukawa Koto assured herself that whatever downfall she will meet will be his downfall as well, because she'll make him see the first of it. Because from all of the conversations they had and the strange scenarios that had occurred, she had realized something.
Orihaya Izaya had limited his love to humanity.
Though most likely stupid and the last theory to be considered, it was precisely the fact that the topic was never brought up for discussion between anyone. Surprising, almost, when she had found out that Orihara Izaya did not know how to love—but he did observe, predict, act, manipulate, and then convert it all into a motion of weird syllables and distraught human emotions—and that was his love.
Somewhere, in a sense, it was similar to her—
No. She was normal. . .
She was on the borderline range of climbing down the norm and breaching the walls of un-normalcy.
Noted, she reminded herself.
Koto was not stupid, but she was inexperienced. Never involving herself in anyone's business unless absolutely necessary, which was rarer than seeing spiders in her apartment (and she would like to keep it that way). Rarely was she the one to initiate the moments of conversation between them. Everything was all done by Izaya.
Honestly, despite the fact that Koto proclaimed her "promise" to him the other day, she never entertained in the idea that Orihara Izaya would act upon their double-sided. . .relationship (she couldn't think of a word to describe the foreign notions) immediately. It was too fast for her up to the point where she couldn't theorize a result, and therefore, was left to divulge the very few information from their meetings.
Actually, their meetings were most definitely not coincidental. First, right after her confession, the only thing he had done was walk her home, and then the day after that, she met him once again. Always in the most unexpected of places. In the park, near the restrooms, in the changing stalls of clothing stores that she would come to from time to time, waltzing into her life casually with a "Oh Koto-chan, what a coincident!"
Coincident my ass, she grumbled.
All of those meetings were staged. Despite the fact that it may have seemed to be coincidental to the human eye, Koto knew for a fact that they were purely planned out. His overly-obvious movements which practically screamed to her as a warning "I know where you are." She was still slightly perturbed that Izaya knew where she was going at all times (perhaps, she should check her clothes for tracking devices again). And then it came. Just like today, there came the long and arduous visits to her house, and it usually started with him threatening her to break the door open, and then she would call him and tell him that she would be there in a minute. And then after that, questions. The endearing yet annoying notion of questions were born right in the middle of their conversations. So they divulged in it (Izaya more so than Koto), waiting for each other to carefully choose their words (although Izaya looked as natural as ever), and they would calculate any sign; any misstep, any blunder that could result into something much bigger. Their questions were were in a large range—varying every time. Izaya would obviously avoid the topic with another question, and Koto would answer each as modestly but opaquely as possible.
There wasn't really anything interesting to know about her. Other than the events in high school, living life in normalcy pretty much made the bulk of everything else. So Orihara Izaya would usually ask questions, hopefully ones that would cause her to act up, but she resisted it. She didn't really like lying, honestly, it didn't sit well with her. So in order to focus the world all the way—180 degrees all the way back to the entity known as Orihara Izaya, she had asked him a question that hit the "jackpot." She had asked him why he liked toying with humans so much. Living a normal life, observing normal people, shouldn't he be normal as well?
And he responded with an answer that she thought was lovely.
"Because I love humans. You should be able to relate, ne, Koto-chan?"
She slowly nodded.
He asked her why she like observing people.
"Because I think they're interesting."
That was probably the only moment of mutuality shared between them—almost to a point where it had become pleasant. . .Until he decided to land her a bomb.
"What do classrooms remind you of?"
And at that time, an unknown force drove her to answer with as much honesty as she possessed, because Furukawa Koto disliked lying.
"My mistake with colors."
And all of this happened in the span of two weeks. Two. Fucking. Weeks.
Unable to stand the edginess that made her feel like a "deer in the headlights," she abruptly sat up, stumbled out of her room, yanked her apartment door open, and left with it slamming shut.
The situation was going a bit too fast for her to comprehend, but she understood one thing. Orihara Izaya does not comprehend "love" as deeply as other people do.
So in order to do that, she would have to make Orihara Izaya experience that love for himself. . .
How cheesy, she scratched her head.
It also had an unlikely outcome.
Koto stepped onto the sidewalks.
It was also the only option. She had no power. No large business that would ruin or benefit her. No enemies that would make her life miserable. She only owned the occupation of painting and that managed to keep her afloat. Unless Orihara Izaya wanted to ruin her job (which was highly unlikely, since he wouldn't benefit from any of that unless it was to see her move out of Ikebukuro), then she, a small leaf in the large storm of calamity could only do the one thing that could possibly amuse her life, and at the same time, destroy it.
"Wherever there is danger, there lurks opportunity; wherever there is opportunity, there lurks danger. The two are inseparable." (1)
All of that just to see Ikebukuro's strongest on his knees. All of that just for the risks of observation.
Koto sighed. She should really consider seeing a therapist. . . .
Then again, she reminded herself, she supposed that she wasn't normal either.
Then again, this would mean that she would have to accept his offer. . .
Then again, this was just another unhealthy indication that she should not get involved with Izaya fucking Orihara.
But then again, that warning came too late.
He walked through the streets of Ikebukuro, cigarette in between his lips, his new bartender uniform fitting snugly on his lean figure.
Heiwajima Shizuo was a peace lover. Another human of society that simply wished for the calm before anything else.
Instinctively, he wrenched a light pole from the ground and swung it a marvelous five feet that just barely missed its target.
The people of Ikebukuro desperately searched for refuge.
"I-za-ya!" Shizuo ignored the smug look on Izaya Orihara's face and barreled towards the flea. It was impractical. Izaya Orihara was anything but the calm.
"Shizu-chan," Izaya said affectionately, "I didn't know you were expecting me."
Heiwajima Shizuo was a peace lover. He disliked violence and tried his best to put on the very few restraints on himself whenever he was angered. But like every human being, Shizuo had limits. And those limits were shattered once Izaya Orihara brought out his flick-blade and held a defensive stance.
Shizuo roared.
Furukawa Koto seemed to have stood with the same impassive face for at least a few minutes. She went through a list of things that she was planning to do.
Number one: Go out and take a walk.
Number two: Enjoy the relaxing walk.
Number three: Visit Izaya and make sure that he knows that she's going to accept the offer before he pulls a crazy stunt and forces her to owe him a favor.
Number four: Don't get into trouble.
Clearly, rule number four was breached, and every fiber in her body was spitting out Red Alert.
There they stood; sticking out gloriously in between all of the flying light poles and shredded clothes were two of Ikebukuro's fiercest yet again. As if taken out right from an action movie, smoke covered most of the area as the civilians distressed over the everyday occurrence and thugs made way for the impending omens.
Koto felt a breeze hit her, then a hand over her waist as the other lunged with the flick-blade. There she felt the strange sense of déjà vu. She blinked, making sure her face didn't betray her exasperation.
Are you serious? She thought as her head trailed up to the dark-haired figure that was currently holding her hostage—again.
"Izaya-san." She said impassively, eyeing the barely noticeable claw marks on his cheek.
He smiled silkenly. "Hi, Koto-chan!"
"Uh, hi." She lowered her eyes to where his hand was. If she asked him to let her go, he would obviously see her distress. . .not like he hasn't already.
Izaya ignored her awkwardness and stared straight ahead at Shizuo, loosely holding her since he knew that she wouldn't dare run away. She was too much of a coward to do that.
Koto felt Shizuo eye her—or rather, the person behind her.
"Izaya, you damn coward." He growled. Koto felt a smile grow on the figure behind her.
"Izaya-san," Koto craned her head around, "I need to tell you something."
"Oh, really?" He purred.
"I'll do it."
"Do what?"
Koto stared at him modestly, "You know what I mean."
A moment passed. Izaya whistled. "That was fast. I didn't expect you for another day or so."
So he did know. Koto returned his response with a skeptical stare.
Meanwhile, Heiwajima Shizuo's flame didn't simmer.
"I-za-ya."
In fact, it seemed to have grown larger, and Koto's eyes widened up to the point where she looked like a deer in the headlights. Izaya smiled.
"Izaya-san." she started uneasily.
"Wait," he hummed, hand still encircled around her wrist.
"Izaya!" Heiwajima Shizuo lunged, unable to set his restraints, unable to draw anymore calm as his eyes were solely focused on the black-haired flea. His day had been shitty. Apparently, someone decided that it would be fun to provoke him by spilling coffee onto his uniform earlier. and it turned into an even shittier one with this meeting.
"IZAYA!"
The whole entire area blazed with raw fury and exasperation, burning up the whole area in a swarm of exhaltations and war cries that suddenly cascaded down the drain in a matter of seconds; the adrenaline pumping, the fury blazing up an inferno.
Shizuo saw white. Orihara Izaya heard a crack as his hands left her waist and he slipped away with a smile. Furukawa Koto felt pain blooming in her arm.
Izaya was nowhere to be seen.
Koto cringed.
As if a switch had been turned off, everything had been drained, and everything had been set back into reality. White turned into the color of destroyed pavement and stores; the raging inferno turned into dying embers, and in between everything, Heiwajima Shizuo stood there, light pole nowhere near his hands anymore as he hovered over the crumpled figure on her knees, seemingly taking a blank interest at the ground. He stared almost dazedly, running over everything that had happened before the girl came in and acted like a human shield.
A human shield which he destroyed.
"I. . ." Shizuo faltered, eyes glazing over the girl that was doubled over on the ground and clutching her arm. He ceased whatever words that were planning to come out of his mouth and swallowed them whole.
Meanwhile, Koto kept her eyes open dazedly, inhaling deeply as she tried not to wince. "Uh, Heiwajima-san," she said impassively. Shizuo shifted.
"Could you help me up?"
Shizuo froze for a moment, keeping his eyes slightly wider than before, then hiding them under his bangs. "Yeah."
"Thanks."
He paused for a moment, then grabbed her other arm as tenderly as possible. Mechanically, his brain was in motion, running its gears, ignoring the way the darker part of it cursed jumbled up profanities thrown everywhere.
She's light, he thought, and cautiously brought her left arm around his shoulder. He turned his head over to look at her. Messy hair, brown eyes that narrowed slightly in pain. He shifted their position again. She relaxed slightly in his grip, her right arm slightly twisted the wrong way as it bounced limply around her scraped thighs.
They walked.
A/N: So. . . .yea
Hope you guys enjoyed this!
Izaya falling in love. . . .nope, can't imagine that xD Please tell me if this is too cheesy. No, really. I want to know (**) xD
1.)"Wherever there is danger, there lurks opportunity; wherever there is opportunity, there lurks danger. The two are inseparable." The quote is by Earl Nightingale.
Happy almost St. Patrick's Day everyone!
Til next time~
