I got too excited to wait until tomorrow to post this, and I got a bit carried away, so it's pretty long. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far. It means a lot to have so much interest in my work. Hope you like the rest of it ~~

Shizuo was sadly disappointed. The day had started off well, but he should have known that his luck wouldn't last. It never did. It was just a known fact. His name was Shizuo Heiwajima, and a man with that name wondering around in Ikebukuro would never have an easy time of it; somewhere between the gangs trying to take him down or the scumbags he had to deal with for work he managed to get a peaceful day here and there, but they were few and far between.

He'd already had to deal with one of those assholes already. Some asshole had tried to flee when he'd heard Tom knocking on his door, claiming that it was payday and he needed to cough up what he owed. The idiot had thought that escaping out of the window had been a good idea, not expecting to find Shizuo waiting for him at the bottom of the tree he had tried to shimmy down. That had been fine, he could deal with that, just some coward trying to skip out on what he owed, he was used to people like this in his job; but then that asshole had brought up Kasuka, and everyone who knew Shizuo well enough knew that was one thing you didn't do if you valued your health. The man had ended up halfway across the city, tree and all, leaving a still considerably pissed Shizuo and a mildly amused Tom – though of course Tom would never admit to that, it meant having to wait for the payment he was owed from the man Shizuo had just sent flying.

Shizuo was used to dealing with things like that though, and it hardly made a dent on his day because it was just something that came along with the job, just one of those things. He had calmed down after that, gone with Tom to another couple of people who owed money who had no trouble paying up once they spotted Shizuo lurking a couple of paces behind Tom. No, no, Shizuo could deal with that. The sun was still out and they'd stopped by Simon's for lunch when his stomach had protested that it needed something to keep him going. Tom had agreed, and the sushi had been a welcome bonus to what was pretty much a good day so far.

And then Izaya Orihara had appeared, and all of that had gone up in smoke.

"Oh, Shizu-chan~," had been the call that had reached Shizuo's ears, though even at that stage his angry had flared to the point that all he could focus on was finding the nearest and heaviest thing he could to toss at the damn asshole.

"How lovely to see you today, lovely weather we're having, hm?" Izaya seemed indifferent to that fact, though it was obvious from the rising colour of Shizuo's skin to the growls rolling out of the blonde now like some kind of wild cat. Izaya was still skipping along, down the street away from Shizuo, but not at a particularly speedy pace. "Though I suppose such beauty is lost on someone with a brain as small as yours~"

Tom had spotted the warning signs, had stepped casually away with a roll of his eyes and a sigh. Work was done for today, he knew well enough what came next, a chase across Ikebukuro and Shizuo disappearing somewhere after to calm down with a round of cigarettes and some punks to beat up or something like that. He certainly wouldn't be in the mood to deal with more debt collections today, but that was fine, Tom got that, to a point, he did, he really did. May as well get on with the day's work though while Shizuo was off letting out some steam, and hey, it wasn't as if anyone would be able to calm him down now. He was going to explode sooner or later.

The flea had come skipping down the street as if he owned the place, a box of fancy tuna tucked into one hand and a smirk lighting up his face in a way that irritated Shizuo to the end of the world and back. He knew. That damn Orihara knew how fucking mad that smirk got him, how angry his very presence made him. He knew that Ikebukuro was out of bounds, and yet he here was, all the way from Shinjuku despite it all. Oh, he was dead. Shizuo was going to murder him. Dead. Dead. Deader than dead. Dead.

A roar tore from Shizuo's mouth, one that he only vaguely recognised as a livid cry of the information broker's name. He was never really aware of what happened in moments like these. This anger and this strength ruled him, his body moved on its own, and he was powerless to stop it most of the time. His mother had tried to help, had tried to tell him that his brain was in control of his body, that it was up to him to choose when or if he made use of his strength. That was all well and good, but Shizuo hadn't once been able to stop it, no matter how hard he had tried, it was as if something in him just snapped, like a string that had wound up and up and up and could bend no more so just had to break.

Shizuo felt his hands close around the nearest object that he could find, that happened to be a bench nailed to the floor, but wasn't really aware of it. He could hear the groan of metal and the protest of wood as he set about tearing the thing from the floor. His muscles didn't even complain anymore, they just stretched and rolled under his skin to comply with his apparent wishes and within seconds, the bench was poised above his head like it weighed no more than a bag of sugar. Shizuo could only barely hear what was going on around him, could only just make out what was happening; the sound and sight of people in the streets running, exclaiming about what was happening in shock or fear or some strange mix of curiosity only just registered through the haze of anger clouding his head. No, it wasn't that. Shizuo Heiwajima had a narrow focus. He couldn't see anything outside of his rage and outside of that damn punk's smirk and tinny laughter at the furry ends of the coat started to flee down the street. His laughter was everywhere, echoing inside Shizuo's head, laughter, laughter, laughter. That damn jacket was clouding his vision, black and white and with that irritating fucking fur trim that seemed to be getting further down the street. Oh, that bastard was enjoying this. He was enjoying Shizuo's torment, his anger, laughter, laughter, laughter.

With another roar of a name, Shizuo's legs jumped into action, and he took off down the street, tossing the park bench ahead of him in the hope that this time it would land on that bug. Taking out the rubbish, killing the pests, that was his real job, that was what Shizuo had to do. Izaya laughed, cat-calling at Shizuo from down the street.

Dead. Dead. Dead. Izaya Orihara was so dead.

'Hey, Shino-chan~
You'll never guess what happened to me today!'

Izaya had made it back in one piece, shaking off the oaf after a couple of streets chase. Well, he had to give the brute some hope that he'd catch him one day. Where would be the fun in playing with Shizuo if he gave up? Izaya liked the fight, liked the fact that he couldn't read what Shizuo was going to do next. He never did as he planned, even when he set him up, pinned all sorts of crimes on him, Shizuo never acted like his other humans; because Shizuo Heiwajima was a monster. Of course he was. A perfect monster that Izaya liked to poke and prod and play with, ah! He could think of nothing better. Even his sushi had managed to survive today's chase; quite often Izaya was forced to abandon it in favour of leaping up somewhere high out of Shizuo's reach, because the blonde never had seemed to figure out how to reach up to Izaya's level when he did that. Not that it mattered, he had enough money to be able to toss away a box of sushi every now and then without worrying, but it was irritating to return home and find nothing to eat.

The information broker had settled at his desk once he'd arrived home, curling himself up into the comfort of his office chair. Namie had been in today, filing some papers of his and the like, but she had left by the time he had arrived back, thankfully. She was fun to tease, to play with, to extort, because her love for her brother was so delicious that Izaya just couldn't help herself, but having her around all the time only seemed to dampen the fun of his little games. She never understood, never seemed to express any emotion for them, let alone a positive one such as he was looking for. The box of ootoro he'd picked up from Simon's earlier sat open on the desktop, and every now and then he would reach down with his chopsticks to place a piece in his mouth, chewing the delightful flavour with a mumble of enjoyment. Only the best for someone like him, he'd always had a weakness for it. His computer was on, booted up as soon as he had walked through the door, and the email browser was opened – as well as various little chat rooms for his other games of course – whilst he sat, awaiting the reply of Shinozuka Heikichi, his plaything, the current fascination of his mind.

'Hm? Sounds interesting, going to tell me?'

Izaya never had to wait long for a reply from the man now. He liked to think that had something to do with him; the fact that he was so charming, so wonderful that already his influence over this man was starting to show, and so soon. What a delightful notion! It was like that English book he'd read when he was younger, what was it called again? It had spoken of a Lord named Henry, nicknamed Harry, who had taken a young aristocrat under his wing, had whispered dark things in the boy's ears and watched him flourish under his influence. Ah! Dorian Gray, that was it, yes, the boy who had a terrible secret hidden beneath an arrogant smile and youthful face. What a wonderful story that had been. Izaya had never forgotten it, and had even collected various copies of it over the years of his life.

Izaya couldn't help but chuckle as he tapped out a response. It was things like this that made him laugh. Oh, if only the man knew who was really on the other end, what would he do if he found out that Nakura was really the Orihara he had just spoken of?

'Would I keep you hanging like that?
Oh- but I witnessed a fight between Orihara and Heiwajima today!
You must have heard of them, right? It was crazy!
Did you know he can lift a whole park bench above his head?
Ah~ scary!'

Shizuo twitched at the email that arrived in his inbox, and for a few seconds a brief notion of paranoia struck him at reading Nakura's words. Did he know who he really was? No, no. He wouldn't still be emailing him if he knew. He would have run, screaming, like the people in the street earlier. He scowled though, how did he reply to something that concerned himself without giving him away. Irritation bubbled under his skin as he sat, at his desk with a cigarette sleeping between his fingers. This little fling at love was going to be the death of him, wasn't it? Because how would he cope if this man vanished without giving Shizuo a chance to experience his love?

'Yeah, I was in the area myself at the time.
Crazy stuff indeed- hope you didn't get caught up in it.'

Izaya just laughed. What a game this was turning out to be after all.