So this chapter is a flashback... of the Raira High School days of our protagonists. Just for convenience sake, I'm taking Shizuo's reference age as 24, and this chapter had taken place roughly... seven years before the timeline. So in this chapter, everyone's a high school student, aged 17.

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DISCLAIMER - I DO NOT OWN DURARARA.

"Damn that flea, damn everything about him. Ever since I came to this high school he's been hell bent on ruining my life. Hate him. Hate everything about him. Kill kill kill kill…..huh?"

Shizuo had been storming furiously down the hallway, blazer torn, veins popping out of his head as he made his way back to his classroom. The flea had decided to take a detour on his way to school that day, and had gone and told a gang how he had overheard the infamous Shizuo Heiwajima of Raira High School boasting about how he was more than capable of handling them. Shizuo had, of course, done no such thing, but when it came down to it, he had no choice but to rough it out. In the process, he'd torn his blazer and had bruised his lip. He'd also pulled out the school gates from their hinges, but the security guards were too afraid of him to do anything about it. He had also spent the whole lunch break fighting them, as when they realised that high school brat was actually ridiculously strong, they'd called in reinforcements from other parts of Tokyo. All suffered the same fate – a beating by Shizuo.

Shizuo was angry at the flea, hungry as he hadn't eaten his lunch – since it'd been thrown at the gang members in anger early on in the fight, and upset at himself for not being able to control his anger. All-in-all Shizuo Heiwajima was pissed off. Students and teachers alike realised this and scampered off to their respective classrooms as no one wanted to be thrown from the third floor of the school building.

Shizuo finally found his class and barged into it, intent on yelling his head off at Izaya, and throwing a few tables at him, irrespective of which teacher might be in there. Instead he was met with an almost empty classroom. Almost because the class was empty save for one person who was frantically picking up everything she had dropped onto the floor, flustered due to his anticlimatic entry.

She had dropped everything onto the floor. That wasn't why he had paused with eyes wide open, jaw hanging mid-air. He had that expression in response to the manner he saw her was holding them for a spilt-second before everything fell.

No, she wasn't holding them. They were floating in the air.

Shizuo paused for a minute, staring at the woman on the floor, who desperately avoided eye contact with him. He tried to recollect what he knew about her – the new transfer student who had joined Raira Academy, probably this week, as he couldn't remember seeing her before that. Her bright red hair, left open and long, was what caught his attention. She obviously wasn't Japanese, he mused, and wondered distractedly what it would be like to touch such beautiful long hair. He blushed and shook his head to clear his errant thoughts. This wasn't the time to be thinking such things! The woman could make objects fly! In the air! With no support!

As she turned towards him to pick the phone that she had dropped in front of him, he caught a view of her face, and met her eyes. Entranced, he crouched down onto the floor, and tried to exhibit rare gentlemanly tendencies by picking it up handing it over to her. Her eyes were green. Bright green. Like the sea.

Her skin was pale, contrast to his tanned one. Her skin was soft, contrast to his callused one.

They stared at one another for a while, wondering why the other hadn't run out of the room to call for help. They were both freaks, he realised. Two of a kind.

It was she who had broken the silence. "Thank you," she said in halting Japanese. She got up, smoothed her skirt, put the phone back from the bag she had picked it up from, along with the diaries that she had been levitating earlier. Before the leaving the classroom, she turned to look back at him. He hadn't moved from his position, she noted, before nodding at him and left.

So this is what they called a mutual understanding, thought Shizuo. A quick glance at the blackboard told him that they had PE, and everyone would be on the ground playing sports. He decided to forgo the lesson, opting to play hooky. As he stared at her seat next to the window, he realised that it wasn't her seat at all.

It was Izaya's seat.

Just to double check, he went to the seat and picked up the bag kept on it, careful not to disturb anything. He extracted a notebook from it, and sure enough, it was written in neat kanji at the top, Orihara Izaya. So she had been spying on the flea. Interesting. He scanned the class, looking around for her seat before realizing that he had, indeed, seen her before. Sitting on the first desk, making notes, as any dedicated student would do. Then why would a good student like her be snooping around in Izaya's bag? Did the bastard have some leverage over her? Something she did not want anyone to know for the fear of tarnishing her reputation? He ground his teeth. The flea couldn't leave anyone damn alone now, could he?

But more importantly, did he know that she could make things fly?

That was a close escape, thought Natasha, as she ran out into the courtyard. No point in running out into the field for PE, the lesson was only ten minutes to getting over. She inadvertently blushed as she remembered staring into the mocha eyes of Shizuo Heiwajima. She shook her head to clear her thoughts and tried to put her thoughts in order, and posed the most important question to herself – why had she stayed with him for as long as she did? When she dropped everything, she should've simply laughed it off, picked everything up, and run outside, without saying a single word. Instead, she'd become flustered, unable to meet his eyes, and when she did meet his eyes, she couldn't look away.

And now we're in the same class. Great. Just my luck. Mom said no one should know about my telekinetic abilities, and now TWO people in my class do. He doesn't seem like the kind who would go and rat me out, though, she mused.

But Izaya hadn't made any calls to Yagiri pharmaceuticals recently, not as far as I could see. That means he hasn't told them about me. Then who was it who told them? It was definitely them in the black car outside home. I should've just flung that car away, far away, but that won't do any good.

She wanted a normal life. Those people from that company were making her life hell by constantly stopping by and talking to her mother. She wanted them to leave her alone. But she was a freak, and freaks deserved to be stared and mocked.

But she thought of her infamous classmate, the one who had helped her pick everything up, and she smiled. Maybe he knew what it's like, being a freak.

She had feeling he wouldn't tell.

Before Kadota Kyohei was the face of the dollars, he was a student at Raira Academy. A good-natured person at heart, he noticed that the pretty foreign student with red hair could speak very basic Japanese, and had severe difficulty reading kanji. Kadota, being the easy-going person he was, decided to sit next to her and help her, as the other students of their class had decided that there was no way they were going to associate with a red-haired foreigner who could barely speak Japanese. Well, most of them. The other two who weren't a part of this cult were Izaya and Shizuo.

He'd noticed that Izaya had taken to staring at the back of her head during classes, and would smirk whenever he saw her look his way. Natasha did not like it, but shrugged it off as nothing the one time Kadota asked her about it. He did not ask again.

Shizuo on the other hand, he was pretty sure did not even know that Natasha existed. The man lead the life of delinquent without actually being one, and Kadota felt sorry for him. He was hardly ever in class, and always showed up late for the lessons after recess, bruised and pissed off. People avoided him for that reason, but Kadota was one of two people, the other one being Shinra Kishitani in the next class, who could say for sure that Shizuo was actually a good person at heart.

Since Shizuo was not in class very often, he did not know the ongoings of the class very well. So imagine Kadota's surprise when Shizuo asked him to switch seats for one lesson.

But if there was one thing that Shizuo liked about Kadota, it was that the man had a sixth sense of intuition, and did not spend too much time posing unnecessary questions. One glance at Natasha's back as she pored over Kanji and the following pink tinted on his cheeks was enough for Kadota to understand and agree to Shizuo's request.

So you make things fly. HOW?

A neatly folded piece of paper made its way to Natasha desk. It was written in a messy handwriting, but it was English, and when she turned to her right she saw her blonde classmate from earlier, hunched over his desk, scowling at his notebook. No doubt he was having trouble with math, considering he hadn't been present for a very long time in class.

She thought of playing dumb, and putting that note in her desk and pretending he hadn't received it. But then she caught Shizuo watching her from the corner of his eye, and realized it would be no good if she did that. She remembered the little incident in the afternoon, and thought that if he hadn't told anyone then, he sure as hell wouldn't open his mouth now.

It's called levitation. And I've been able to do it for a very long time now.

Shizuo frowned at the basic reply. Before he could retort, another paper landed on his desk.

So you make things break. HOW?

He saw Natasha smiling from next to him and felt his heart was a bit lighter. Not only was she pretty, but also easy to talk to. She was not afraid of him, and actually wanted to continue the conversation. Shizuo smiled back in spite of himself and answered –

I have anger issues. I get pissed off easily at people and want to throw things at them. So I do. And I've been able to do it for a very long time now.

The rest of the lesson passed on with easy conversation flowing between the two. Neither of them went into the details of their respective abilities, but referred to it humorously. Unbeknownst to the other, that this was what they had both wanted for a very long time – a conversation. Small talk. Anything that would make them feel normal.

Anything that would cause the other to accept them as they are, with no prejudice.

The easy flow of words continued for a week after that. Sometimes Shizuo would sit in the front with her, and when Natasha noticed that Shizuo was uncomfortable with the intense scrutiny of the teacher she'd sit at the back with him too.

It took a week for Shizuo to realize that Natasha had severe difficulty reading kanji. Kanji was the one thing that he could help her with, since he'd do it with Kasuka as a family hobby. So he invited her over to help her out with kanji. She accepted the offer.

On the way back Shizuo ripped off two lampposts in frustration.

"Kasuka!" yelled Shizuo, slamming the door open.

"What is it, brother?" asked Kasuka with his characteristic blank face, sitting at the dinner table eating some snacks.

Shizuo took a few breaths to calm himself. He took out a bottle of cold milk from the fridge downed it in a gulp. Kasuka noted that the time in which he drank the milk was faster than usual. Which meant that there was bound to be a mental breakdown.

"Kasuka, I called my friend over from high school over during the weekend."

Kasuka showed a rare smile to Shizuo. His older brother was inviting a friend over to home. That means, his brother had a friend, and it wasn't Shinra, or else he would've mentioned him by name. Kasuka was relieved, and drank a sip of water, waiting for him to continue.

"She's a girl."

Kasuka choked.

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