Present day japan

Today was a day unlike any other, a day that a certain informant had been waiting for years to come. It was today, thought Izaya briefly as he stared out the window at the gray skies, that Celtys head would finally awaken and bring him to Valhalla. The blood shed would rouse the sleeping head from her slumber and finally deliver him to the promised lands, maybe giving him some just entertainment. For Kida Masaomi, today was hell on earth. The rain fell loudly outside the warehouse, the streets glistening in the wet tears that the heavens were shedding for the boys on the cusp of insanity. He stared into blue orbs, darkened and consumed by power. They were the embodiments of terror in its true form, and the person wearing such eyes was almost unrecognizable to Kida. A recollection of the past filled the teen with dread, because the taunting feeling lingered that such tender times were gone forever. As nostalgia danced across his features as he took a hesitant step forward. It was a leisure but heavy step. It took less courage to move his quaking feet, then to abandon all hopes for rekindling the flames of their friendship. As the two boys, both connected by the string of fate, stared into each others eyes, they knew they had reached the end of their story; for one, it was just the beginning.

The air was still in the warehouse, and the smell of blood was unwavering. It was a pungent, heavy, harsh smell that burned your eyes and tightened your stomach. Rotting human flesh was unforgettable, but Mikado had become so used to it that its presence had an almost relaxing effect on him. It was the perfect setting for there decaying friendship.

"Why?" Kida asked, his voice coming out as a broken whisper. "Why Mikado?" he screamed.

Why, indeed.

Instead of an answer Mikado could only chuckle. It was a playful noise that escaped the back of his throat, and soon transformed into a relentless cackle of undying hysteria. It was a piercing laugh that chilled the other boy to the bone. It was cruel, unyielding, unsympathetic, and with that laugh the raven's baby face contorted and took shape into that of a demon. Panic-stricken eyes watched in horror, breath hitching as the last remnants of his best friend disappeared before his eyes. Then there was silence…and all that stood before Masaomi Kida now, was a complete stranger.

Mikado looked almost drunk as a slow smirk lazily made its way onto his face.

"Kida kun…do you believe in a life that is always filled with excitement?" There was a long silence for a while, the question floating through the air and weighing down on him heavily. The other boy merely snorted at the conflicted look on Kida's face. "To make life exhilarating things have to be constantly changing, aren't I right? Whether it means leaping into darkness or tasting some of the debaucheries of human kind, living in a state of pure adrenaline and indulging in it only makes us human, doesn't it Kida kun?" With the way Mikado was talking and how he looked; the resemblance to Izaya Orihara was uncanny. It only further angered Kida and filled him with disgust, giving him the incentive to finally open his mouth. "Is giving up your conscious, soul to the underworld really what you call living? How about me, Anri chan, don't we matter at all?"

Mikado's voice dropped and octave as the anger from Kida's banter echoed from the rotting hallow walls. With a dark smirk he spoke the words slowly and carefully for Kida to understand, his intentions towards him were not merciful. "Our friendship…is like a tangled up string, Masaomi."

Reaching in his pocket he pulled out a lighter and the blond furrowed his brows in confusion. "To fix it…you just burn it and start all over again."

It took a while for the teen to process what he had heard until his nose picked up on the smell of gasoline. Kida's eyes widened as he stared at the alit flame, only daunting his fears. Mikado however felt nothing as he stared at his former best friend. Was it the influence of Ikebukuro's dark underbelly that had made him so void of emotion? Or perhaps, Mikado wondered, had he never even cared for Kida in the first place. He had moved to the city to escape the everyday repetitions of a life with no meaning. Maybe, in the end…he had only been using the other boy as an escape route. The thought made enough sense, and made what he was about to do a whole lot easier as the lighter slowly slipped from his hand and sparked the gasoline soaked floors, emitting large hell-bent flames. They jumped instantaneously and rapidly approached the blond like a frantic animal dying to escape, burning the dead corpses and fueling the flames hunger like a monster who had craved flesh. To Kidas surprise, it went past and around him, creating a blockade of fire around the doors to freedom.

If anyone was going to kill Kida, who was more fit to do so none other than Mikado? The Dollars leader had already dived into the deepest depths of the ocean known as the underworld. He swam with the sharks and tasted blood with his own hands. His teeth had sunk violently and without mercy into the hands, or rather, hand of the person that had doubted his resolve. He was prepared…he was finally prepared to stain yellow with the vivid colors of blue. There would be nothing to stop him anymore.

The leader of the yellow scarves was at his wits end. As he stared into those cold, lifeless eyes, he tried to find a trace of the dork that was always blushing at his lame jokes. He yearned to find the timid boy that could not even tell the girl that he loved how he felt. But he was gone…and Kida had a feeling, he was never coming back. It broke his heart as Mikado took off the shark mask and casually threw it into the fire. Both had exhausted themselves of words.

The gang leaders tossed aside the symbols of their leadership, and faced each other. Not as the leader of the squares or the scarves, but as Mikado and Kida. They would stare into each others dying eyes, till the very end.

The past is where our story truly begins. A story that now, as he looked back, could have justifiably been written under that manga pen name Ryugamine. It was dramatic, filled with the ups and downs of a life that one would find in a typical shojo novel; but it was also filled with tragedy. To call it just a story would not do the deceased justice, he thought. Recollecting on distant memories he lifted his head to the dark sky, laying his battered body on the grassy surface and gazing up at the stars. He was reflecting on his mistakes and his achievements. The boy was recalling his sins and indulgences. A war with no means and friends who had taken him for granted, he was now nothing but a symbol of hypocrisy. Join him as he remembers how it all started.

Join him as he sinks deeper and deeper, into darkness.

(I'll continue next chapter from how it all started. I hope it built anticipation not confusion.)