Chapter 1

Shizuo Heiwajima wasn't known to be the kindest, despite his name which stood for peaceful island, or serene man.

His savage outbreaks had earnt himself many nicknames- the very embodiment of violence, a monster, the forte of Ikebukuro. By using public property as his weapon, the very sight of a flying vending machine had become a sign for the Ikebukuro citizens to scatter before they got in the way of the rampaging brute. Angering him was one of the greatest no-no's that a fellow Ikebukuro resident could commit, and few would live to tell the tale.

Just as infamous as Shizuo's strength, was the mysterious man in the black fur coat that he always chased around. The dexterity and agility of the other was incredible, and something to be awed at. Not even the fastest of vending machines could hit him, making him just as much of an enigma as the strange brutish bartender.

Ikebukuro didn't know much of the relationship between the two, but what could be made certain, was that they hated each other and wouldn't mind finding each other dead.

They weren't wrong either. Shizuo didn't want much else than to get the informant out of his life, since he knew firsthand what a blood-sucking termite the man could be. Making him lose his job, disappoint Kasuka, and many more… just thinking about it infuriated him. When the chance to kill the flea came, he decided that he would take it with no hesitations. He just didn't imagine that the opportunity to would come so quickly.

The screams echoed through the streets, the people scurried away from the growing puddle of crimson red. Shizuo stomped over, a stop sign firm in his grasp as he glared furiously at the motionless body slumped on the sidewalk.

"Oi, Izaya, get up," Shizuo growled, prodding the body with the sharp metal end of the sign, expecting the other to revitalize and bounce back like the immortal being he praised himself to be. He received no reaction from the seemingly dead man. The realization made him happy, but nevertheless the horrified reaction of the people irritated him to no end. He became the victim of the terrified stares of many people.

"Dammit dammit dammit…" he chanted under his breath, tossing the sign aside and glanced around at the crowd, who were starting to murmur quietly and nervously at the event.

As he snapped the cellphone of the frightened teenager who was recording the incident, he reached a conclusion; he should bring the flea to Shinra and get away before more commotion ruined his day. Just as he moved to help the informant though, he stopped and reconsidered. Why should he help out his mortal enemy, the scoundrel who messed with the lives of many undeserving people like they were nothing more than the pieces on his chessboard?

He gave one last glance at the pale face of the informant, before he turned and abandoned the injured man there. Such a bastard didn't deserve any help, he told himself, as he walked away before the police or the ambulance were called. Pushing the tiny feeling of guilt aside, he continued to justify his reasoning to leave a helpless injured man on streets, especially when he caused the injuries himself. No, Izaya wasn't a helpless man, even when he wasn't conscious he was still an evil entity deserving of punishment. Wasn't he?

"Dammit dammit dammit dammit…" he chanted, as his voice blended into the sirens of an ambulance.