The city of Ikebukuro sees the end of yet another bustling day. On this humid night, cars and people alike crowd the streets, creating a healthy host of activity. Bright signs and illumination from storefronts bathed the area in light, leaving few shadows. It seemed that many people were in high spirits, whether being on their way home or getting ready to party all night. Almost everyone on the streets appeared to be getting ready for a fantastic evening.… but only on the main pathways.

A shape in the night hurries down near-vacant streets not far from the busy scene, frequently keeping his back against the walls and hoping to keep himself out of sight. With the way Ikebukuro normally was, it'd be safe to assume he was trying to hide from an unseen assailant of some kind, especially noting the slight limp in his stride. However, there was one other tell that narrowed down the identity of this mystery assailant quite a bit.

The man stops behind an apartment complex, briefly looking around for any stragglers before lifting his coat slightly to inspect a large, crudely-torn hole in the seat of his jeans. It would be a strange sight for anybody to behold, but to this unlucky soul, it was getting to be one that was all too common. The man had been dealing with a notably aggressive dog for about a month, one that had a nasty habit of sinking its teeth into more tender areas. It seemed like a strange coincidence at first, but after the two's encounters grew more frequent, it was painfully clear that it was now almost exclusively targeting him.

Aside from its oddness, it was also frustrating that it kept happening, especially when it occurred during important meetings. It's possible it belonged to someone he wasn't on good terms with, but he's never seen anyone with it — it was always on its own. A new message on his phone diverted his attention away from his current problem, so he lowered his coat and fished the device from his pocket to see what had been sent. 'Hey, how are you doing? I haven't seen you around today,' read the message, sent by an accomplice of his, Celty.

To be honest, he was in a lot of pain, but he replied, 'Yeah, just ran into a little bit of trouble. I'll be okay.' Celty responded quickly, stopping him from putting his phone away, 'I see. Still having problems with that dog?' Even though she wasn't there, she could still see right through him; it was a response that made him unsure of how to reply for a little while until he finally came up with, 'Unfortunately, yes, but surely it can't keep happening. It has to come to an end sooner or later.'

'I'm not so sure. It appears to have it out for you,' read a new message, 'But if you're certain, I won't bother you any further about it. Best wishes, Izaya.' He wasn't a believer in 'best wishes,' but with his recent bad luck, any wish for good fortune is welcome — It does help him feel a little better, anyway.

Izaya looks around again before putting his phone back into his pocket and trying to pull his coat down to completely cover the hole in his clothing. He proceeds to the front of the complex and goes into the lobby, hurrying along to avoid prying eyes as he enters the elevator and quickly presses the button for his floor. Apart from a few people in the lobby, the floor he reaches appears to be empty, allowing him to relax as he walks to his room and closes the door behind him. Safe.

As he moves deeper into the room, he exhales a long, hefty sigh of relief, sliding off his coat and placing it on the back of a computer chair. He was about to sit down on a nearby couch when another new message, this time from his computer, caught his ear. He was sick of hearing that little 'ding' by this point, mostly because he knew it likely had something to do with him, but Izaya turned around and sat down at the computer anyway, yelping in pain as he managed to sit on the spot the dog had grabbed earlier.

A few more messages appeared in the chat as Izaya attempted to adjust himself, and when he finally found a position that didn't hurt, he looked at the screen.

TarouTanaka: 'Hey, has anybody seen the weird things going on with a dog lately?'

TarouTanaka: 'A lot of people are talking about it, but I'm kind of out of the loop.'

Bacura: 'Oh, yeah, it's a big thing going on right now.'

TarouTanaka: 'Yeah?'

Bacura: 'Yup! There's some kind of big dog that keeps attacking Izaya, really likes to bite him in the ass.'

TarouTanaka: 'Really? I mean, I've seen some of the videos going around, but I guess I never realized it was him in them.'

TarouTanaka: 'I wonder if someone trained it to do that..?'

Bacura: 'Dunno, but no one else seems to really know either.'

Bacura: 'We could try asking Kanra, she always seems to know what's going on around here. It looks like she's online.'

Izaya should've just sat down on the couch, but his curiosity was too great to ignore. At this point, he was more or less obligated to respond to the users, though he tried to make it brief.

Kanra: 'You guys got me, I don't really know much about what's going on with that.'

It was technically true because Izaya had no idea why the dog had targeted him or where it had come from; all he knew was that it was a nuisance.

Bacura: 'I guess you can't know everything, huh? I'm just surprised to see you stay so quiet on this subject.'

Bacura: 'Even if you don't have any info to add, most people who know seem to be quite happy it's happening, and go on and on about it.'

Bacura: 'I mean, maybe that old saying is actually true; karma does come back to bite you in the ass!'

And that was enough of the chatroom for tonight, Izaya quickly logged out and shut down the computer to avoid seeing anything else. Looking back at his defeated reflection on the black screen before him, he understood that it was entertaining from an outside perspective, but this dog was becoming a real serious problem.

Not only were its bites painful, but it was also having a near-catastrophic impact on business. Meetings are difficult to hold when you're trying to avoid an angry dog's jaws, after all. He hadn't ever suspected he'd need it, but he wished he knew as much about dogs as he did people; it would certainly help things along, and maybe even help him understand why they were happening.

But there he was, held in his apartment, worrying about the next time the dog would attack him.

For the time being, all he could do was go to bed and hope for a better day tomorrow. He got up from his chair, dressed for bed, and went to sleep.