Madness.
That's what this is.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, the person glaring back at me is unrecognizable.
Raven locks have reached well past my ears, and I'm having second thoughts about correcting it.
I would train my voice every morning, but today feel no urge to do it.
When Mairu and Kururi were born, my existence became no more significant than air in our household.
My so-called 'parents' seemed to have forgotten I exist altogether. I didn't care. My existence was never significant to them in the first place.
So I took this as a blessing, revelling in the resulting freedom; I was able to carry out my plans, my observations, my games, without worrying about probing questions and unnecessary interruptions.
Becoming a male was simple at 8 years old. Still young enough that chopping your hair short and avoiding skirts and dresses was enough to confuse people; excusing you from having your pigtails pulled and bugs shoved in your face.
Perhaps it didn't work quite that well against the idiotic few who still thought that shoving people's faces in the toilet and beating them up for lunch money they don't have is ingenious, but a pair of safety scissors in one's pocket and a few kind words are enough to make sure it doesn't happen again.
But yes, still young enough to not care about the insignificant things and focus on aiming for the top. (And oh how very simple that was!)
It became harder at 13 when the hormones kicked in; young and impressionable. When emotions become unstable and your body begins to change, showing you something you cannot escape from.
When you're forced to watch from the side-lines as those who came after you, after your suffering and after your efforts, are pampered and spoiled while you stay in the dark, forgotten.
They call me 'big brother'. I don't correct them; that is who I am. But their existence irritates me.
They're loud. Volatile. Unreadable.
And I would never admit it, but at times I can't help but feel envious. Envious of smiles, of attention, of dolls and colourful dresses…
It's annoying.
I don't need it.
And so those dolls would burn, the dresses stained and torn, and the smiles on their faces would vanish, would twist –would turn into anguish and tears and hate.
And it brings a smile to my face as I laugh at their pain. All the while ignoring the loathing gazes and screams and the sting of the injuries our 'parents' would inflict when they find out the culprit is me.
I love humans. But for my sisters, I'd have to make an exception.
Haha, hahahaha!
*_~*.*~_*
Madness…
That's what this is.
Pure, unadulterated Madness…
Night had long since fallen over the Enigmatic City of Ikebukuro, but the streets are far from empty.
Whether it be the occasional stressed businessmen eager for a drink after work, fresh graduates looking for some entertainment, color gangs seeking for trouble, or even the more shady members of the underground, these streets would be packed full with humans of all types and backgrounds.
Neon lights shine brightly on every building, bars and night clubs beckoning such humans for a night of fun and relaxation in the form of alcohol, loud music, and women; things that many are all too eager to accept.
And in one such establishment, accessible through a single flight of steps behind a semi-hidden doorway in a nook of one alley –a place that practically screams 'VIP'S ONLY, KEEP OUT'— a small group of people gathered.
Four of the group looked like the stereotypical underground bodyguard, while the other two stood out in their expensive looking suits and accessories. Just by looking, one can see that these people aren't to be messed with. They exceed an aura that can only be described 'shady'.
"Just as expected, your tastes are far too regal" one –the severe looking man with a tattoo partially hidden on his neck- remarked as he idly inspected the venue, clicking his tongue at the Traditional Japanese setting.
The other, who seemed to have been the addressed, smirked at the comment; the action showing off the gold nugget amidst his teeth, making him look like the obvious rich villain one would find in crime novels. "Thank you" he stated, mischief shining in his eyes. "But it is not just the decoration"
As if on his cue, the door to their private booth slid open, revealing a beautiful young woman dressed in an equally stunning dark red kimono. Smiling softly, she bowed low to all of them as a sign of respect. "Good evening dear Patrons. Please call me 'Setsu' I will be your server for tonight" she explained, expression and tone of voice radiating 'innocence'.
The smirk on his face grew into a predatory grin at the sight of her. "Well aren't you just a sweetheart?" he purred out, beckoning for her to come. "Exactly how I wanted…"
The tattooed man narrowed his eyes, disapproving of the other's less-than-legal actions but unconcerned at the same time. This, however, did not mean he was growing any less impatient.
The man with the golden tooth sighed when he noticed this, pausing in his molestations.
He leaned back in his seat, allowing the poor girl some much needed space. Immediately, a professional look was on his face as he placed his chin on his hand. "So, now let's talk business"
Ring! Ring!
Click.
"Good Work Informant-san. Efficient as always"
I grin despite my urge to vomit, trying my best to keep the tremor from my voice. "Ah Shiki-san, the things I do for you" I sigh in an overly dramatic fashion. "Tonight's job was much more complicated than expected. I expect a pay raise for this!"
A chuckle resounded from the other end. "How much do you want then? Double?" His tone was slightly teasing, but I wasn't.
"Triple" I negotiated, no trace of mirth or mischief in my voice.
My hand is still shaking. Twice isn't enough.
"…" The line went silent; only the faint trace of Shiki-san's breathing informing me that he was still there, considering my demands.
No? I wonder as I set fire to the dumpster in front of me. I try to calm my beating heart as I watch the disgusting red fabric burn, my fingers desperately seeking for my switch-blade, my entire body yearning to be cleansed…
I really don't know what compelled me to pull through with this job. I admit that the original price itself was much higher than my usual fees due to the importance of this information, but unlike others, I don't run just for the money.
So why then? What reason did I go so far as to break my own rules?
Slightly, absentmindedly, I find my hand fingering a strip of satin from the bin, untouched by the flames…
I flinched, pulling the traitorous limb back to my person as I glare at the inferno…
"I suppose that can be arranged"
Shiki-san's voice brought me back to reality, his words making me grin.
"It must've been a long night indeed. Get some rest Orihara-san; you can send me the results tomorrow. I'll have the amount transferred to your account as soon as I get the information"
Click.
Beep. Beep.
Staring at the device in my hand, I can't help but marvel at Shiki-san's directness. He truly is my best client; sharp, professional, not-too tight on the bills and still very much human. My grin widening, I tuck the phone inside my jacket pocket before skipping down the alleyway thinking of a warm, thorough cleanse in my own bathtub.
I'm not wearing my usual fur-trimmed parka tonight. No, in fact I'm not wearing anything remotely close to my usual attire at all. Call me paranoid but, as a high-class informant, it wouldn't do well on my reputation should anyone recognize me at this moment.
Orihara Izaya stepping out from a prostitution establishment in female garb…
My grin wavered as disgust bubbled in my stomach, and before I knew it I'm retching all over the side of the alley. Dry heaves only followed by the toxic taste of bile.
No.
It was all just spying.
There were drugs in their drinks. I made sure of that.
They won't remember me once they wake up.
Vile, chapped lips traced up the side of her neck as a wandering hand travelled lower…
The other offending limb slipping through the opening in the front of the kimono, acidic wet muscle tracing the path…
Sharp incisors digging shallowly into flesh.
My teeth clenched, bringing a shaking hand to the wound just below my collar-bone. Bile rose up my throat again; my hand continuously rubbing the entire area from my neck to my chest in an effort to erase all traces of the offending mark, hoping the revolting memory disappears with it...
I don't feel pain as my nails dug into flesh; I don't feel the blood gushing out through the raw wound. What I do feel is repugnance; for that man, for my actions, for myself.
Nothing happened.
I disappeared as soon as I gathered enough material.
They fell asleep.
But the bitter memory of even that slight violation is enough to send my mind into panicked disarray.
Pathetic.
"Haha… hahaha!"
I laugh.
Loud and clear and maniacal…
"Hahahahahaha!"
Reliving psychological trauma for an excuse to wear a dress…
It's all so incredibly hilarious… Worthy of a Nobel Prize!
"Hahaha…"
If only it weren't happening to me.
I stop; my expression blank as I slide down the wall, staring at the blood staining my hand.
The night was dark, only the dying embers from the burning garbage bin illuminating the area. My head felt itchy from the wig I've yet to take off, my face uncomfortable with all the make-up, and the jacket felt much too foreign.
A bitter smile crosses my face as I stare ahead, unwilling to think of anything as the dying light fades into darkness.
Madness…
…
An UPDATE XDD
Aaah the Angst and the twins and SHIKI!
I shall say sorry. I don't really know Shiki that well, so if he was OOC, then please forgive me =_=;
I think I overdid this chapter a bit...? But I do have to say I reeeealy like this chap, personaly! ^^; Hope you liked it too. XDD
So Shizu-chan probably wouldn't get screen time for a while, like, three more chaps? But after the entire nature of this fic might change OAO (cause I have this sort of bad habit of Mood-Whiplashing between Angst and Fluff for some reason), but if it doesn't then OwO XDD
Anyways, please feel free to tell me what you think!
Chapter Explanation (I may put stuff like these around sometimes. You don't have to read this if you understand, it's more like a rant really, but please feel free! ^^;)
Excuse to wear a dress –I tried incorporating this into Izaya's character.
Basically, Izaya doesn't want to be a girl. He's sworn off that gender and he never really knew it in the first place. BUT he uses 'Kanra' –a girl— as an online identity, why is that? My explanation would be this:
He will forever deny it, but he wants to experience what it's like to be a girl. He always stood in the background watching his sisters, and he wants to experience it himself.
BUT, his pride won't allow it.
He can act like a sissy all he wants and it doesn't matter to him. Growing his hair long and wearing anything 'too' feminine though (like skirts and dresses) he will never do. EVER. (Or so he says)
…that is, unless he gets something out of it. An excuse.
And thus, in his earlier years of being an informant (he's only around 16 and climbing up that ladder) when he realized that the mission Shiki gave him required meticulous spying, and that the easiest role to play in this point is exactly that –A server girl, a maiko in a traditional Japanese setting, of elegance and beauty — he was only too curious to accept; using the fact that he isn't yet so formidable that he can guarantee hired spies wont fail him.
But he also knew the nature of the job –prostitution. And so he made triple precautions to make sure it doesn't happen.
Thing is though, he's traumatized in that department. And he didn't expect he'd be so shaken at even the slightest breach.
So we get that ^^ (I totally just explained the entire chapter…. Wow…..)
