DISCLAIMER:
I Do NOT Own Durarara! , Tom, Shizuo, Izaya, Mikado, Kida, Anri OR ANY CHARACTER FROM DRRR!
I DO own: Clara, The Plot
Clarification for Last Chapter: "Rule Number Nine; Always Carry A Knife" is a reference to NCIS.
Gibb's Rules to not belong to me, and it was merely a reference.
"….Shizu-chan?"
Chapter Three
Shizuo sent a glare down towards me, but Tom stepped in before any more tension could rise.
"Not Shizu-chan. He hates that name... Just Shizuo." Tom corrected.
The blonde stared at me from behind those blue sunglasses, and I could feel his gaze burning a hole into my head. There was an awkward and extremely uncomfortable silence, and I shifted my weight onto my other leg. The silence was finally broken by Tom, Who suggested we head over to a restaurant so we can discuss the arrangements made prior. I mumble my response and the two men place themselves at my sides.
We walk through the streets of Ikebukuro, and the stares never left us for a second. The gossipers grew quiet as we neared, and only continued talking as soon as they believed we were out of earshot. Not all of them were correct. It did feel like an unbearable long walk but according to Tom, it was only a few blocks. Maybe it was the whispers of the Yellow Scarves, or of Shizuo suddenly walking about with a girl who obviously wasn't from this place… but something bothered me. A voice stopped me, and I stood a bear before rushing back to the males sides. Before us stood a tall, dark skinned man handing out flyers. Judging by his thick accent, he was of Russian decent. He spoke with much familiarity to my new bodyguard, and his employer. Eventually his gaze fell upon me, and a wide grin spread on his lips.
"Ah! Shizuo has girl. You treat companion to sushi, Shizuo?" The man spoke.
Shizuo's eyebrow twitched in annoyance, as he snapped his cigarette in half. It found its new home on the concrete before effectively being put out by the sole of Shizuo's shoes. With a small grumble in his tone, the bodyguard introduced the man before me as Simon, before muttering I was not his 'girl'. I gave a small smile to Simon and held out my hand for a shake, although part of me was just a tad worried about his grip.
"Hello, Simon! I'm Clara… A friend, of Shizuo's." I introduced awkwardly. Hey, it wasn't a lie but it wasn't the truth either. A little white lie, I suppose. Instead of a hand, a flyer was placed in my palm. I looked at it briefly, noticing it was an advertisement for 'Russia Sushi'. 'Russians make sushi?' I pondered.
Simon was about to speak before a hand touched my shoulder and guided me into the restaurant. We were quickly placed at a table and asked if we wanted any type of drink. I requested some tea, since I had no idea what type of sodas they had here, and the males ordered their respected drinks. I almost felt like I was being interrogated with that two older men across from me. Their gazes were intense, the only difference being the mood they seemed to give off. Tom seemed very relaxed, almost carefree… Meanwhile, Shizuo was tense and did not seem too happy with the new arrangements. Why did I feel like I was six again? Déjà vu seemed to be prominent in this town. Shizuo's scowl never seemed to leave his features, and for a moment I believed he would be a lot handsomer if he had a smile on his face every once and a while. My cheeks flared scarlet at the thought, and I mentally waved it away.
"So, White-chan, do you have the files on your person?" Tom inquired.
I removed the tan envelope from my bag and handed it to the man. "Clara."
Tom looked at me with a raised eyebrow.
"It's… Just Clara. No honorific. Please." I said firmly, quickly adding the last part. Honestly, I felt intimidated by the man and his super-human companion.
A simple chuckle escaped from the man as a response, before he began flipping through the envelopes contents. The waitress returned to the table with our drinks on a tray, distributing them to the proper owners. She left as soon as she came, excusing herself to go and attend to a very impatient older man and his wife. Shizuo sipped at what I assumed was coffee, as the bitter scent was familiar, with his gaze never leaving me. I put my nose into the menu, only to realize that I probably.. Scratch that, really need to brush up on my Japanese. Not everyone here would be willing to switch to English just because I'm a foreigner. I didn't need to look up to know that Shizuo was still looking at me. Eventually I was given relief from his burning stare as the polite waitress returned to our booth and took our orders. The only 'sushi' I had ever eaten was a cooked California Roll from a little shop back in California. I just asked for whatever Shizuo was having, and the waitress walked off with our orders.
I supposed I had zoned out, because when I snapped out of it, the envelope was dropped into my lap. "Alright then, Clara. Shizuo here will be escorting you to and from your destinations. Due to a, erm, misunderstanding with the authorities and my employee, a friend will be watching over you on school grounds. The rest have been outlined in the envelope." Tom explained simply.
I nodded in response. "When do we start?"
"Now."
The moment would have been far more dramatic if the waitress hadn't returned a few minutes later with our meals. The plates of sushi were placed before us, and I gave a quiet 'thank-you' to the young woman. The three of us proceeded to eat our meals in silence. Well, what would pass as restaurant silence, with the clinks of silverware and faint music, joined happily by the loud chatter of those eating We continued to eat when I surprised myself by being the first to speak.
"So… Shizuo. Tell me about yourself?"
Shizuo didn't even look up. "What do you need to know?"
His response made my lips curl into a small frown, and my eyebrow twitch in annoyance. "What are you willing to tell me?"
The blonde looked up from his meal, and we had this silence stare down. Neither of us seemed to be willing to back down. His gaze was neither warm or cold, but hard and neutral. I was very well aware that he was not pleased with our current arrangements, but I needed protection and he needed money. Part of me felt sorry for him, but another part had so much apathy. Neutral hazel irises connected with chestnut ones, and we just continued like that for a few moments. Tom corrected Shizuo after a while, instead asking on why I wanted to know about him.
"If I am going to be followed by someone and have their company for gods know how long, I'd prefer if I could consider them a friend then look at them as if they're a babysitter." I answered instead, leaning back in my seat.
Shizuo threw a glance towards Tom, who merely smiled. "That would be his choice, I believe."
That seemed to be the cue to drop the subject, and I obeyed. If I argued then there would be what are considered privileges taken away. I merely shut my trap and continued eating. It wasn't long before we all finished our meals, and paid for them. Tom excused himself, saying he had to go attend to some kind of business. What business, I didn't want to know. Shizuo looked to me as soon as his companion was gone from our sight.
"Apartment." He grunted.
I rolled my hazel irises at this, and turned on my heel. I began walking, hearing the clicks of his shoes against the concrete that told me that he was following. For the first time since I had arrived here, I felt no eyes on me and heard no voices. It was quite a walk from Russia Sushi to my new home, and I slipped in my earbuds in an attempt to either distract myself from the awkward silence or… well. No that was it. I felt one be tugged gently from out of my ear, hearing my companion grumbling something on how I should be more aware of my surroundings.
"…Speaking of being aware of my surroundings… I've heard people whisper already. They think I am a part of something called the 'Yellow Scarves'. Care to explain?"
Shizuo paused in his step, and turned me around. "Where have you heard that name?"
I stare at him, looking almost unamused. "I hear people talking when I pass. My jacket is gold and they assume just because it's a shade of yellow, that I'm a part of the yellow scarves. Plus, me being a foreigner only adds fuel to the fire."
"Stay away from the Yellow Scarves. They're a gang, in the middle of a gang-war with another." He warned, before moving forward as if to tell me to lead him to the apartment.
I quickly rush up to meet him. "Tell me about them. And the other gang."
"Okay. The other gang is called the Dollars. Stay away from them and the flea and you won't have a problem."
It wasn't too difficult to know what Shizuo meant by 'flea'. The way he acted around Izaya made it obvious to even the most ignorant of people that they had some kind of rivalry. My mind wandered back to the man, and shivered visibly at the memories of that spark in his eyes. Growing up with a boy as a best friend gave me firsthand experience to know that, that glint was the glint of mischief. And something tells me that Izaya doesn't have his mischief managed. Our awkward silence stood between us, increasing by the second. The time passed by far too slowly in my opinion, before we finally arrived at the apartment building. Entering and hitting the elevator button, I felt Shizuo's presence behind me. He followed obediently as I entered the compartment, pressing the button labeled with the number four. We waited again, stopping at the third floor for a boy about seventeen— or… rather 'my' age. He was on his cell-phone, talking happily. He must have been trying to convince a girl for a date, but wasn't aware of my presence.
When the doors opened for the fourth floor, I walked out and walked straight to my apartment. Apartment Four-Thirteen. I unlocked the door and walked inside, about to shut the door on habit. But a foot stuck itself between the door and the frame, the man walking in. Turning, I quirked an eyebrow towards this unwelcomed visitor. He paid me no heed as he made himself comfortable on my couch.
"Inviting yourself into my home isn't the best way to get on my good-side." I huffed.
"I'm supposed to be guarding you. Apartments aren't completely safe, believe me." Shizuo said boredly, removing a packet of cigarettes.
He began to lift one to his mouth, pulling out a lighter when I walked over. I smacked it out of his hands, not bothering to look where it landed. The lighter wasn't lit, but he seemed to be frozen in his previous position. A glare was sent my way, and I returned it. For the second time in the last two hours, we had a silent show down as we stayed in our positions. My hand was still in the air from slapping it away, and he was still frozen in the position to light his cigarette.
The silence was broken as I glared at him. "You're not smoking in my house."
"It's not your house."
"It is while I'm living here. And it's against the rules. If I get kicked out of here, according to our agreement, I would end up staying at your place." He was silent as I continued. "And we wouldn't want that, would we?"
Silence loomed between us, and we both knew I had won that argument. I plucked the lighter out of his hand, and snapped it shut before dropping it on his lap.
"Go get your cigarette. If you're going to smoke, do it on the balcony." I snapped, turning on my heel and moving towards my room.
I glanced towards my phone as I walked, narrowly avoiding bumping into a wall. The echoing footsteps and the sound of a sliding door told me that Shizuo had actually listened to me. We were most definitely not off to a good start, but hopefully things would get better. Opening the door to my room, I entered and flopped down on the bed face first. My mind reeled through the day's events. I had woken up in America, in my own home. And now I was going to bed in Japan, under guard with a smoking pain in the butt as my body guard. I thought to myself as I nodded off.
'Yeah, this is the life.'
- Point Of View Change: Shizuo Heiwajima -
I swear, this chick is going to be the end of me. I would kill Tom if I was able to, but then I'd be out of a job. Leaning against the metal railing, I blew out the smoke from my cigarette. My brown eyes watched as the smoke faded into the city air, and a sigh escaped my lips. The cycle continues, taking in the nicotine and blowing out the smoke. Maybe I should go back in there and apologize… But not now. She'll be fine, she's an adult.
Time ticks by and I drop my last cigarette. I crush it under my foot and head back inside. I can clean that up in the morning, hopefully before she wakes up and bites my head off again. Opening the sliding door, I quietly shut it behind me and walk through the small apartment. It's cozy, I'll admit that.. Yet it seems far too expensive for her cover. But hey, if Americas government thinks it's fine, I can't really say anything. I test out the different doors before finally finding the room in which she took shelter. Her smaller frame is sprawled out horizontally across the bed, as if she just dropped and fell asleep. Tsk. Walking in quietly, I do my best to pick her up without hurting her. I place her under the covers, and take my leave.
Thanks to that stupid agreement, I have to watch her day and night. I take a seat on the couch, and turn on the TV.
Maybe things will be better in the morning.