PART FOUR

"Ah… Come to Russia Sushi! It good, it cheap!" A tall, rather imposing man said, his pure white chef's outfit contrasting starkly with his ebony skin. He waved fliers around, as if that would be enough to attract hordes of people to his restaurant. "Sushi good for you! Sushi best at Russia Sushi! Come to Russia Sushi!"

Though there were numerous people on the street, many steered clear of the salesman, often giving him strange looks as they passed as if he was some sort of ghost—not like that would be strange here, in this town. Point being, they were scared of him. For good reason too; though he seemed genial enough, most of Ikebukuro's residents knew about this man. Strong enough to fight on par with Shizuo Heiwajima! Once a spy for a secret militant Russian group! Danger with a smile! Of course, most of those were just rumors, but that didn't make anybody fear the towering brute any less.

"Simon!"

The man blinked his eyes, as though he found it strange that someone was calling him in the middle of the day, and glanced around. There, standing barely three feet away, was a blonde-haired, golden-eyed teenager wearing a rather ratty looking Raira uniform that had most definitely seen better days. Beside him was a young girl, most likely younger, with chin-length chestnut tresses and sharp, though friendly, hazel eyes. Simon recognized them almost instantly.

"Kida! Kida's friend! You come to Russia Sushi? It good—even give you half-off coupon." He smiled his best showman's smile, waving one of his fliers at the teen. "How about it?"

Masaomi laughed. "Eh, I don't have any money today, but tomorrow…" He gave the girl a sly glance, which she returned gratefully. "Maybe."

Simon knew that look all too well. He chuckled, a deep rumbling baritone that sent some of the closer pedestrians almost into a blind panic. "Ah~ young love. Russia Sushi good for romance! Good for making out!" At that, Kida felt his blush deepen ten times more, his neck become as hot as an inferno. The girl beside him laughed, then grasped his hand tighter as if saying, "It's okay to be embarrassed." Masaomi gave a little squeeze back, his happiness nearly palpable, before the sounds of shrieking ruined the happy moment.

"Ah, ah—I already told you, I don't have your money! P-please, just let me go!" The two teens glanced curiously over to the already bustling scene, somewhat interested at who would be starting a fight in the middle of the day. "P-please—!" But before the man could reiterate his pleas, the surrounding crowd heard a resonating snap, like a piece of chalk had fallen on the floor, as the man began howling in pain. Masaomi knew what was happening, but despite his friendly conversation with Simon, he was still lying low-key with Saki just in case any rouge Yellow Scarves members found him. He couldn't do anything, no matter how much he wanted to.

He didn't have to though.

As quickly as the bone had been broken, the Sushi chef made his way over to the carnage, people more than happy to let him pass. The assailant, some thin sinewy kid with long black hair and glasses covering beady chocolate eyes, had no idea that he was being watched. Grabbing the man until they were nose to nose, he screeched, "I already told you, you stupid fucker, that I don't want your fucking money." He smirked, something that looked a thousand times more sinister with his rat's face. "No, the reason that you're getting beat up is because of the Dollars—"

Dollars? Masaomi thought, his momentary confusion causing him to drop Saki's hand. What does he want with the Dollars? His eyes widened. This kid… he couldn't possibly be…

"Ah, fighting no good." The kid, who had until this time been shouting in the other guy's face, glanced up with scrunched eyebrows and a half-open mouth—a look of agitation to be sure—only to met with the amiable smile of Simon himself. Then, leaning closer as if to say a secret, his smile still disturbingly in place, Simon said, "Fighting no good, not at all. Russia Sushi use no human, but plenty others do." He grabbed the teenager, taking in the kid in one of his big burly hands and his smile, as if it were possible, seemed to get larger. "Ah~ fighting truly bad."

His eyes seemed to get a certain gleam in them, something dark but genial, almost like one of those scheming genies or even the one and only informant of Shinjuku himself. The punk, as we can no longer really call him a man or even a boy, stared up fearfully into the smiling eyes of death himself. Or at least, he did, before he went flying through the air, landing a good twenty feet away with a sickening thump, like someone had dropped a sack of potatoes on the ground. The flashes of cameras instantaneously followed, as though they'd received a cue from a director, but no one actually went to check on the poor punk who'd gotten beaten so mercilessly. Figures.

Simon smiled at the carnage and, as though he hadn't just permanently rearranged some kid's entire body, looked towards the cowering man, genial smile still present on his face. The man squeaked a little, his eyes wide and fearful, his skin colored an unnatural white. For once, the smile that had become so potent on Simon's face slipped off as he hesitantly reached out a hand. "You no need to fear. I come in peace." The hand fell on his forehead, a somewhat gentle gesture, as Simon rubbed soothing circles. "You come to Russia Sushi. You eat good sushi." Simon was really glad to be doing his good deed for the day. Maybe he could even become friends with this man.

Or maybe not. The poor man was about ready to piss himself as Simon continued to reassure him in some strange, unknown tongue that was like water to a thirsty man. The man couldn't take it anymore. "P-please…! I p-promise that I'll p-pay back my m-money so long as you don't kill me! J-just because I'm p-part of the Dollars doesn't mean—" He gulped and slapped a hand over his mouth. "I-I didn't mean it! I'm not part of the Dollars! I'm not! I promise!"

"So it's true." Masaomi nearly jumped at the hot breathe against his ear. He didn't freak out though, didn't react, didn't even flinch as Saki placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Masaomi." Her cute, low and seductive, almost playful voice reached his ears as her grip tightened on his shoulder. "Masaomi, please be careful. Don't push yourself." And then, without any pretense, she gave a quick butterfly kiss on his cheek before shoving him off into the slowly diminishing crowd.

Masaomi, quick and covert like some sort of special agent, made his way to the fallen, his congenial smile contrasting starkly with his dead eyes. Giving a quick nod at the kid, he waved his hand in greeting. "Yo."

The punk looked up at him, a dark kaleidoscope of colors painting his pale face, and spit at his feet. It landed right on his shoelaces and Masaomi resisted the urge to sigh. Really—and these were his favorite shoes too. Apparently Simon hadn't knocked any sense into the boy.

"The fuck do you want?!" the kid asked, fear showing in the slight quiver of his voice. "I don't have time for some blonde-haired pretty boy who doesn't know when to keep his nose out of people's damn business!" He took a shaky breath, as if he was losing steam but trying desperately to reclaim it. "Now just run home to your mommy, would you? I have important business to be taking care of and I don't have time to take care of some fucking brat—"

Masaomi pouted—or came as close to pouting as he could and still be… well, Masaomi. "Ah, that's no fun!" He placed his fingers on his temples and shook his head, like he was reprimanding a child. "But I see your point. I'll leave as soon as you answer one question for me."

"What?! Look kid, if you don't get lost, I swear to God—"

"Just one question," Masaomi urged. "I promise I'll be out of your hair after that." The guy looked like he was about ready to let out some very choice expletives before he simply sighed in defeat.

"Fine kid; what do you want to know?"

Masaomi smiled and giggled, not unlike a certain raven-haired informant who terrorized Ikebukuro. "What gang are you a part of?"

"Huh?! What the fuck are you talking about?! Why the hell should I tell you that?" It did not escape Masaomi's notice his lack of denial. "Get lost kid. Otherwise you'll be in a whole mess of hurt—"

His patience snapped. "Is that so?" He leaned forward until they were nose to nose—not hard, considering the other one was lying on the ground. "Well…" Suddenly, before the punk even knew what was going on, Masaomi was stepping on his arm, amiable smile gone like a breeze in the middle of winter.

"T-the fuck…!"

Masaomi shook his head and then, very slightly, applied even more pressure on the appendage. The guy cursed but that wasn't surprising; Masaomi knew that with any more pressure, he'd break the bone. Not like it would be a total loss. Maybe this guy would finally learn some manners then.

"Now I'll ask you again—what gang are you from?" His golden eyes were hard, no longer the blushing, shy boy from minutes before. "And I'd answer quickly if I were you. Not sure how much longer your arm's gonna last~" God, he sounded like Izaya. "So talk."

"F-f-f-f-fine! Fine I'll—ow, bastard!—I'll talk! I'll talk! I swear I'll talk!" Kida smiled, the light in his eyes returning, but the pressure on the other's arm did not let up. No need to be reckless. Or stupid, for that matter. He didn't know what this guy would do when placed in a corner. Probably lash out.

Stupid bastard.

"Go on~"

The guy looked up—almost behind him, as if he were admiring the sky—obviously looking for an escape. But who to fear? The leader of his gang, who would probably kill him later, or this stupid kid off the streets, who would probably hurt him a lot worse now? His survival instinct kicked in and without another thought, he chose the latter.

"B-Blue Square! I'm from Blue Square!"

XXX

-Aoi has entered the chat room-

Aoi: Hmm… seems that someone knows about my position in Ikebukuro. Or at least, the Blue Squares. Who did you think it was, Masaomi Kida? The Yellow Scarves? Please, don't make me laugh. That group's nothing now—actually, that group never was anything to begin with. But us—my gang—is one to be feared. We're going to be the ones to wipe out the Dollars and destroy Heiwajima Shizuo. Aha! Let's see how brave you are then, Masaomi Kida, when all of your bones are broken, when you're wallowing in your own blood, when we torture each and every one of your little friends in front of you. Let's see how powerful you are!

Aoi: …..

Aoi: And Heiwajima Shizuo…

Aoi: We're coming for you.

-Aoi has left the chat room-

XXX

"—saki. Misaki. Oi~ Misaki… wake up, Misaki…"

Bright sunlight. That was the first sight that greeted the sleeping brunette—its warm rays caressed her skin like it was promising her something fantastic, but the brightness was a plight to all humanity, specifically to one Ayuzawa Misaki. She felt a hand probe, something concrete against the sun's gentle light, and she swatted it away, annoyed. Couldn't they see she was trying to sleep? She didn't have to get up, not yet, it was Sunday—

Wait. Sunday was yesterday. Yesterday… Sunday was yesterday…

"Ahh!" She rolled out of bed, the shock that no, today wasn't Sunday, but rather Monday—and if she didn't hurry, she'd be late for school. Her! As the school president, she could not afford to be late. She would not allow it. Couldn't. Then she wouldn't hear the end of it from Usui.

She glared up at her cousin and felt fury creep into her voice. "Why the hell didn't you wake me up?!" She pushed him then, quickly, so quickly, as she ran to her dresser and pulled out her uniform and a fresh pair on underwear, completely forgetting about her cousin in the room. There wasn't any time to be modest!

Shizuo scowled, something she'd noticed was a trademark expression for him. "Why is it MY responsibility to wake you up? Wake your own damn self up!" Who did the hell did she think she was, yelling at him like it was his entire fault she couldn't wake up? He felt his hand twitch and he desperately felt the need to grab onto something large and solid. Probably her bed, if Misaki wasn't careful.

"That's not the point!" she shouted back, equally irate. "You knew what time school started and you knew what time I need to get up!" A thought struck her then. "W-wait… didn't my alarm go off this morning? I set it every morning and I don't see how it wouldn't go off—"

Shizuo, who'd been prepared to offer an angry retort of his own, snapped his mouth shut with an audible click. He looked towards her alarm—or, at least, what was left of it. She followed his gaze, confused, before she beheld the pile of screws and metal that had been her alarm clock.

"W-what…?! WHAT HAPPENED TO MY ALARM?!"

Shizuo felt his temple throb and he yelled back irritably, "I broke it, okay?! But you know, who wakes up at five in the morning for school anyways? That thing went off," he spat the word 'thing' like it was some sort of disease, "and… well, I got pissed, alright?! But that still doesn't mean you can blame me for not waking you up!"

A dead, almost suffocating silence filled the room and Shizuo shifted, uncomfortable. What was she thinking? Misaki was turned away from him, her back towards him, and he couldn't read her expression, couldn't even see her face. Was she angry? Seething? What was she?

Then, quite suddenly, Misaki reared around, hands on her hips and—if he focused correctly—devil horns sprouting from her head. He gulped as she pointed to the alarm and said, in a voice that sounded eerily like a demon's, "If you don't buy me a new alarm clock before I get home from school…" She left the threat hanging, but that was okay, because Shizuo understood the basic message. If he didn't get her a new alarm, he'd have hell to pay.

He gulped.

Seemingly satisfied, Misaki shoved him out of the room. "Now go! I still have to change and brush my teeth and I only have five minutes!" And before the blonde could protest, he was standing outside her room, the door slamming shut in his face as his cousin continued hurriedly getting ready for school, her irritation almost a palpable substance in the air.

He shrugged and, without another word, lit another cigarette.

XXX

Finally, FINALLY, after nearly five scrupulous minutes where Misaki thought she wouldn't make it, she'd finally gotten out of her house and now was walking—okay, more like running—to school. She had ten minutes to go but she knew, even on a good day it took at least twenty to get there. Deciding not to dwell on such depressing statistics, she pumped her legs faster and faster, all the while passing pedestrians on the sidewalk. She was able to avoid most of them but some, like the young Seika boy who was walking in the opposite direction of the school and was most likely ditching, gave her a dirty glare before continuing on his way.

Misaki didn't care though. She continued running until she was FINALLY able to see the school in the background. She was close—maybe five meters at most—and she could almost TASTE the marigolds blooming shamelessly by the entrance, the feeling of perspiration known to every school, the scent of fear as the boys waited for the Demon President's arrival—

And suddenly, just as quickly, she collided with something. Or someone, if the groan underneath her had anything to do with it. She fell backwards and landed, quite gracelessly, on her butt, her school books flying everywhere.

"O-ow!" She grimaced and rubbed her sore muscle, positive there would be a bruise tomorrow. "I-I'm so terribly sorry! I wasn't watching where I was going and I just—"

A guy laughed. "It's fine, really! I wasn't paying attention to where I was going either, so I guess we can call it even!" Quicker than Misaki thought possible, he jumped back onto his feet and handed her a few of the books he'd gathered. "Here you go."

Now that he was standing up, Misaki could see that the man was actually somewhat attractive. Not like she cared about those kinds of things, but still, she could admire someone like that when they came around. He was slim, first and foremost, but his entire body was endowed with lean muscles. He had dark, spiky black hair that contrasted almost entirely with the pale skin that covered his entire body, though it matched rather nicely with the black pants he was donning and the fur-trimmed sweatshirt. Odd, Misaki thought. It's too hot for something like that…

But the strangest, it seemed, was his red eyes, the color something she had never seen on a regular person before, much less a Japanese man. Strange indeed.

Then she remembered. "Ah—!" She glanced down at her clock and noticed she had three minutes to spare. "I have to go now! Please, if you'll excuse me—!"

The guy laughed and stepped in front of the panicking girl. A red alert went off in Misaki's head and she turned her flustered forgetfulness into a heated glare. The man, much to her chagrin however, simply laughed condescendingly. "You really are the brute's cousin."

"Huh? L-look, I have to go, so if you can just get out of my way—"

"Eh~? But that's no fun, Misa-chan!" Misaki's eyes widened. How did he…? Before she could ponder this further, he laughed like a small child and held up a picture that Misaki knew could ruin her life. Because standing there…

As her confused expression turned into one of anger, she lashed out, intending on stealing the offending picture away from this creepy man. But the man, with more grace than even Misaki, leaped just out of reach and chuckled at her murderous expression. "Ooh~ So scary! Is this the infamous Demon President that I've heard about, hmm~? Ah, so scary!" But his tone had taken on a rather dark undertone, like he'd found an annoying pest on his shoe. "But see… you're not scary enough." And before Misaki could even blink, she felt the man slip behind her, his arm resting precariously on her upperarm, the stabbing pressure of metal against her neck.

"Let's talk, Misa-chan~"

XXX

…I'm starting to think there should be a warning for Izaya in a chapter. He's just… ugh, he can be quite strange, but he's still one of my favorite characters. Hmm~

But anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I can't wait to write the next one! Misaki and Izaya will talk, Usui and Shizuo will meet, and Aoi will still be revealed! That contest is still going, FYI (check chapter 3 if you want more information) so if you know the answer, come on down! You could very well win a new car!

(Note: You will not actually win a new car for completing this challenge.)