"Miss Misaki!"

Misaki grinned and waved up at the Russian giant. Similar to Kadota, she was genuinely glad to see this man. It was something that very few people in Ikebukuro could say. "How are you, Simon?"

"Wonderful! You eat Russia Sushi, yes?"

Misaki considered buying Izaya some fatty tuna, just to surprise him. But he would probably rather have her job completed instead, so she shook her head. "Sorry, Simon. I'm kind of in a hurry. Have you seen Kida around here?"

"Ah, Masaomi-kun," Simon rubbed his chin, taking no offense to her refusal. "Just a minute ago he passed by with boy friend."

Misaki couldn't help but laugh as he pointed her in the direction her target had taken. And it wasn't long before she caught sight of a familiar blond head.

"That was easy."

She made a beeline toward the boy, until she was close enough to notice his short companion. A plain, black-haired boy shuffling beside him.

"Yo, Masaomi."

He flipped around, and she noticed how tense he was even though he donned a charming grin. Of course he was, after what happened to Saki. But she saw the mask he wore, the carefree slouch in his spine and his hands in his pockets. She saw right through it. In her line of work, that was what she was trained to see.

"Ah, Misaki. What's up?" She heard the wariness in his voice. She had established an individual relationship with the blond, had stayed out of Izaya's meddling in his life that short year ago, but her reputation preceded her. Misaki Ise worked with Izaya Orihara. No matter how kind she seemed, it was unwise to test her loyalties.

"I haven't seen you around for awhile. You look good." She gave a dazzling smile. "Who's this?"

Mikado Ryugamine, age fifteen, from the country in Saitama. He just move here to attend the prestigious Raira Academy with his childhood friend. He also founded the Dollars. She already knew more about him than Masaomi did. That didn't stop her from asking.

Mikado bowed, blushing lightly, as his friend introduced him. He spoke formally, no city dialect ruining his fluency.

She stuck out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"This is Misaki Ise," Masaomi introduced. "She's a friend of Kadota's. The bandana guy we just met, in case you forgot."

"We were classmates," she explained as Mikado slipped his hand into her slender one.

"Misaki Ise…?"

He was with Masaomi, awed by his old friend's confidence in the crowded city. He'd just told him to stay away from two different people. Mikado wondered if that was a city thing, to be so judgmental. In Saitama, if you avoided people, you avoided half of his school. But, if Masaomi thought they were dangerous, they probably were. He murmured their names over and over again, lest he forget them.

Shizuo Heiwajima and Izaya Orihara.

"Oh, and I'd probably steer clear of Misaki Ise, too," Masaomi chattered on, dragging Mikado through the streets.

"Is...she dangerous, too?"

"Misaki? She's...alright. I wouldn't really say she's dangerous, though. More like….slippery. No one really knows what to think about her."

"Oh…"

"But!" Masaomi spun around on his heel, holding up a finger in the boy's face. "If you do end up running into her, beware!"

"Beware?" He thought he just said she wasn't dangerous.

"She's a total babe. A ten out of ten."

Mikado added her name to the list, but only after he recovered from Masaomi's joke. One hour in Ikebukuro and he already had enemies. Well, one-sided enemies. People to avoid. But if that's what Masaomi thought would be best...

"Welcome to Ikebukuro," Misaki flashed her teeth, her winning smile, employing her charm. She saw the pink on his cheeks and figured she'd done what she'd come to do. Easy, again. But she'd expected it to be.

"Make an impression," Izaya had told her. "Then you're free for the night."

The boys waved back at her as she bid them farewell. A brief encounter. Nothing too special. Nothing too suspicious. Normal and innocent.

She wondered what Izaya had planned for them.

Speak of the devil.

"IIIIIIZAAAAYAAAA!" she heard Shizuo Heiwajima scream—she cocked her head to listen—one, two, three blocks away. Immediately, she broke into a run, glad she had traded her lacy wedges for comfortable slide-ons. She was also glad the famous monstrosity had such powerful lungs despite his addiction to cigarettes.

Not that she needed to find him to save her employer. He would be fine. But she was the type of person to worry anyway, if it was him. And the type who didn't want to miss any bit of action.

As it turned out, Shizuo—and Izaya, as was the case—were headed toward her, so she didn't need to worry about losing them. The vending machine that shot into the air overhead was also a helpful indicator. Once again, Misaki found herself running against the flow of the fleeing crowd.

"Now, now. Shizu-chan," Izaya teased, just as he happened to leap into her field of vision. Obviously he hated the blond, but he also liked to seek him out every once in awhile to mess with him or sabotage a job. If that turned out to be the case, she would turn down the nearest alleyway and never look back—she wasn't suicidal. But she could tell instantly that this was not one of those time. Judging from the direction they had come, the two mortal enemies must have bumped into each other while Izaya was on his way home. "I'll play nice if you do." He picked up his speed and jumped to the side just as a road sign sailed by his head. A second later, he flicked a knife open and launched it behind him. Shizuo ducked just as he turned the corner, bellowing in rage when he realized silver death had been millimeters from his face. His instincts had saved him.

"You've gotta be kidding me," Misaki murmured, undeniably awed and off put at the same time. And she'd thought her sight was otherworldly. Shizuo was stranger than Celty.

"Ah, how nice of you to join us," Izaya said as she reached him. The street was devoid of people by now. Ikebukuro was used to the rampages.

"I thought I would steal you away for a bit," Misaki smiled, happily playing along.

She back-tracked at Izaya's side until another sign soared their way. They managed to dodge, but it was hard to judge its trajectory. Signs and poles had strange aerodynamics because of the flat and long shape. In case you didn't know.

She saw the bodyguard tense. So he noticed her.

"You again," Shizuo snarled. "Get out of here. This is between me and the flea."

And this was the other way Misaki was useful to Izaya; she wasn't scared to put herself in Shizuo's line of fire. Shizuo was dangerous and unpredictable and getting close to him during a rampage required experience and skill. Getting close to his target and the origins of his rage required even more. Skill, and nerves of steel.

But, as they all knew, Shizuo would never intentionally harm an innocent.

"I said, get out of here!" the blond growled, slowing his chase to a crawl. Izaya laughed even though he knew it wouldn't help.

"I'm not leaving," Misaki stood her ground. But she also knocked her skinny knees in a little and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. Shizuo didn't have mercy for the strong or the brain-washed by Izaya. So she played the part of a pacifist, a scared girl who was risking her neck to stop a war. And a victim of Izaya rather than a follower. Not that Izaya didn't control any and all gossip in their high school, but the number of girls he'd manipulated was unhideable and she had no doubt everyone had heard who Misaki Ise latched onto right before he graduated. Shizuo would have heard everything about Izaya, in that time where kids gossiped and could find people to gossip to, even if they didn't want to listen. Kadota usually stayed out of drama, too, and as far as he knew, he knew every little detail about her life.

She had always reasoned their history together at their old school was why Shizuo didn't just attack her along with Izaya.

Her heart pounded in her ear and she swallowed thickly as Shizuo stopped in the middle of the road, his chest heaving. He was steaming with anger. But Misaki slipped between him and Izaya, who now slouched with his hands in his pockets. Probably gripping knives.

This exact situation had happened before. She didn't know why this would be any different.

But Izaya said, "See, Shizu-chan? The honorable Misaki Ise wants you to stop trying to hurt me." He shrugged.

The bodyguard barked at him to shut up. Then Shizuo straightened. And paused. And scratched his head. She heard him mutter to himself, "Misaki...Ise?" She should have been intimidated, as his anger was ever present if Izaya was in the vicinity. She blinked.

"Why does that sound so familiar."

And then it hit her.

Izaya had, with no reason in particular, never really mentioned her name before. It just never came up. It was just something people knew.

But.

Although Misaki Ise was a name most students had heard in her high school, and even now it was a name most in his crowd was familiar with, Shizuo Heiwajima was so far off in his own little destructive world that he had no idea who she was. Even if she hadn't… changed so much, she really doubted a different result. He didn't recognize her from high school. Her assumption had been off.

"Dude," she muttered, intending only for herself to hear. "It hasn't even been a decade."

And then her mind was blown a second time. She turned to Izaya and saw surprise in his porcelain face.

"Holy shit."

Izaya Orihara hadn't seen it coming, that a person from his own class didn't know who Misaki Ise was. All those past stops, they had misinterpreted. Izaya had guessed wrong.

Shizuo had no idea who she was.

And yeah, she was a little offended.

It was Izaya who broke out of his stupor first, motioning for her to escape with him. They fled in the confusion, slipping into and alley and then rejoining the crowd and retracing their steps.

Misaki joined him in his apartment, still confounded but gradually recovering. It wasn't like she was a celebrity. But she had most definitely interacted with Shizuo before they had graduated, fully under the impression that he was aware of who she was.

What a guy.

She forced herself to forget the entire day as Izaya let her into his apartment. She was… probably his most frequent visitor. But that didn't make the privilege any less of a treat. A wide, open livingroom, a plush and crisp furniture set, a floating staircase to lead to the master bedroom, and a top-notch kitchen. Information was like diamonds. Apparently.

Izaya threw his jacket on a coat rack, and Misaki slipped her shoes off, neatly stacking them away. Not many people knew, but Izaya was a but of a clean freak. Misaki found it cute. But it was also just one of those little details that she alone knew, something that made her special. She would guard that secret closer than she would her sight.

"I knew he was stupid," Izaya muttered, chuckling. "Shizu-chan really is unpredictable."

Misaki wanted to swoon at his voice but managed to contain herself. She always agreed with him, of course, but personally she had no qualms against Shizuo. Everyone hated Izaya, that was nothing special. The bodyguard had thrown some debris her way, but never on purpose, and she had never not been able to dodge. Other men had tried worse with her. She just couldn't muster up the hate. Or any other feeling, really. He did give her an excuse to run toward Izaya, though, so she couldn't really complain.

Before she could say anything else, Izaya was already on his cell phone, listening closely but barely responding. He'd hung up again by the time he flung himself into her plush office chair.

"It seems Higuchi didn't respond well to being blackmailed by Yagiri Pharmaceuticals."

"You already sold them the account numbers?" She'd just gotten them to him a few hours ago.

He laughed. "They were making their move before even you had it. They bluffed."

"Because you bluffed," she concluded. Yagiri Pharmaceuticals believed Izaya always had such a playing chip, probably thought they just hadn't found his price yet, but maybe would soon.

She assumed Izaya had directly pushed them into playing the bluff. Now those numbers were priceless. "Am I getting a bonus?"

She could have died happy when he laughed. And promptly ignored her. "I imagine I'll be contacted by both parties before long."

"Higuchi might call their bluff yet," she tapped her chin. "He seemed pretty confident they were secure."

Izaya shook his head, like she was forgetting something important. "He's the type to brag about his money to a girl in a bar. He'll be wondering if maybe one of these days, he had a little too much to drink."

She hated to be skeptical of him, but her instincts made her uneasy. "I just feel like he won't buy it." She leaned against the back of his couch. "Should I sleep with him and find more dirt?"

Izaya hummed his smirk, turning to his computer. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about him." And she instantly knew he had done more with Higuchi than he had told her. She should have realized that right away. Izaya observed. But he still pulled all the strings.

"Besides," he typed away, "Higuchi's a little too superficial for you."

She hummed, agreeing with him now that he'd said it. Higuchi would take one look at her body and he would reject her with disgust. Sometimes people surprised her, though, and cared less than she would have expected them too. They were usually the most aggressive ones, though, the ones who wanted to feel superior and lashed out, who thought she would definitely be inferior to them. Because of who she was and what society thought of her. Higuchi was different. He was open about his affairs, because to him the woman he bedded had sign-exchange value. From their looks. Misaki Ise would not be a valuable commodity if word ever got out. To his crowd, of course. It wasn't like it was a secret.

She announced that she was going to wash her face and slipped into the bathroom.

Of course, it was just as clean and expensive as the rest of the apartment. The black and white tiles were so shiny that they were almost chrome. The bathtub, even though it wasn't the master bathroom, was roomy, and she personally knew the jets were powerful and luxurious.

Misaki was strangely sore. It took her a moment to remember how Oda Higuchi had manhandled her earlier that night. Finesse was not in the older man's vocabulary. Sighing, she rubbed the back of her neck and turned to the mirror.

Since she'd grown her hair out, the red was more prominent, a little on the bushy side. Her eyes were still smudged with the eyeliner and gray eyeshadow she'd applied before she'd gone out with Higuchi. Her arms were slender and toned, not soft, not muscular. The adam's apple protruding from her willowy neck, one of few reminders of her past, was deceptively small, almost unnoticeable.

The girl in the mirror could have been a model. Yet. Yet.

Yet Izaya Orihara found her amusing, and nothing else.

At first, when she was with him her looks embarrassed her. Whether she dressed up or tried to appear effortless, he would be amused for all the wrong reasons. If she'd try a stunt to catch his attention or spark his jealousy, he'd just see through her, every time, like she was transparent.

She'd since learned. She dressed for herself. Maybe her job, if she thought it would help her. With Izaya, she would always be honest with her intentions, would always ask if he was jealous when she slept with other people, even though she only really ever did it for information, because unfocused minds and lots of skin contact was the perfect recipe for a secret.

He knew it all anyway. Why bother with lying?

Yet. Yet. Even though she'd worked for him for years, even though he took care of her financial situations, ensuring that she could continue that work, even though he undeniably gave her preferential treatment—with his time, his compliments, his lack of sabotaging—Misaki Ise was nothing to Izaya, nothing but a pawn.

She couldn't bring herself to blame him for it. Couldn't not love it, not because she liked being his pawn, but because the fact that she was one even after all that they'd been through together was just another thing that made him, him. His love of humans, as he described it, and his separation from them. It was just how Izaya was. If she loved him, how could she not love that aspect as well? It was who he was.

Misaki washed her face in the sink, careful not to splash water into her eyes lest she ruin her makeup.

Izaya was spinning leisurely in his chair, observing his window and his apartment, noticing the moment she entered the room but not acknowledging her. Though his signature smirk never faded, she saw contemplation in his eyes. An idea was cooking.

"What are you up to now?" she asked, not unfondly. She slipped onto the pristine sofa, pulling a throw pillow to her chest and peering at him over the back, her long, pale legs dangling tantalizingly over the edge. She watched him spin three more times before he caught himself on his desk. A decision had been made.

"My dear Misaki," he announced, and her heart fluttered. Izaya noticed, of course, and she thought that just maybe his smirk widened a little. "I was just thinking of a way to mess with Shizu-chan indefinitely."

"Indefinitely."

"Indefinitely. It's an approach I've never tried before, so it's going to be interesting. However, all the work goes to you, I'm afraid."

Misaki rested her chin on the sofa, intrigued. Izaya tended to get involved a little more personally when it involved Shizuo. He also had never asked her to do a job that would directly hinder the blond. She'd hoped it was because he was worried about her getting hurt and didn't want him blowing up at his secretly psychic employee. The real reason, she wouldn't know.

Izaya knew he didn't have to ask if she'd say yes. And he knew she would listen to his every word without prompt.

He picked up a white chess piece on the Othello board and slid it to the opposite end, placing it by one of the smaller Go pieces. It had been the queen. "Misaki dearest, you're going to get Shizu-chan to court you, and then fall desperately in love with you."

Just wanna say, Misaki is rather good-looking, but a lot of her charm is a skill she attained through her work. She's charming for a living, basically. She's learned a lot from Izaya, but rather than an observer, she's another player. On Izaya's gameboard, she's the queen, not for sentimental reasons, mind you. In his game, she's just the most far-reaching and mobile piece... not that he doesn't move any other piece anyway he wants.

Izaya sent her to charm Mikado, superficially, to make it easier to manipulate him later on. Not that he needed her, as we know, but if you have a tool that makes a job easier, why not use it? Masaomi is aware of her association with Izaya, but they were careful never to be seen together by him, so although he's suspicious and pretty sure she's another of his victims, he's rather confused and conflicted when it comes to her. Misaki is similar to Izaya in the way that she knows everyone and every piece of drama, and she ties a lot of strangers together.

Thank you for reading. If you happened to like it, please leave a review as that would be much appreciated.

Thank you!

~Lin