Author's Note: I have not been on this site in a very long time. Life started to sweep me away and my free time had been deprived. I just got a new computer too. I was actually considering abandoning altogether but then I saw 17 reviews in only just the prologue! When I checked my email for the first time in five months, it was filled with alert and favorite notices. I was in such awe that I couldn't leave this site… not with so many eager readers waiting so patiently. So I apologize. But I know that just an apology isn't enough so… here's the first chapter? :D

I should probably get this story beta'd. o-w-o Well, I apologize ahead of time for any grammar errors.

They say that Orihara Izaya is a god of Shinjuku and Ikebukuro.

The black object that landed on the ground beside him from out of thin air can probably attest to that. Then again, there are many other things that prove that he has more power above all others in those parts of Japan.

But back to the foreign object that dropped from the sky. Technically, it wouldn't be the first.

What? A certain bartender throws way more hazardous objects at his head during their every meet. So when a black notebook suddenly decides to obey gravity for once and crash near him, he was not in the least bit surprise.

Here sat a harmless little notebook with the words "Death Note" carved on the front cover.

Maybe it was a diary of a misanthropy child, who felt the need to express their inner most hatred on sheets of paper. People like that, who hated the human nature, they amused Izaya. If they hated their kind so much, why don't they just kill themselves? It's not like they'll be missed, they're antisocialists!

Izaya on the other hand, loves humans. The way they go about life, pretending that they're alright but in truth, they are miserable. The way they talk to each other, how they lie to their families and yet spill their entire heart out to complete strangers. The way they would talk about death, as if it were the new fashion. They take everything for granted… and that's what makes it so entertaining.

Without even putting much thought into it, he picked it up from the ground. Then, decided upon skipping on to his next destination, the notebook being swung carelessly by his side.

Was he excited? Perhaps, but the additional whistling was not a good omen.

For anyone.

–

Mazenda-san, would you like to disappear with me?

If we die together, maybe they'll understand…

What they truly should have cared about.

- Nakura

Those words moved her. And so, it was decided…

She wanted to see him. She wanted to see this faceless person who shared the same feelings as she. It didn't matter if this person was lying to her, because she was serious about disappearing. She knew what she was stupid, and yet she didn't care. That person could be a serial killer for all she knew. And she wouldn't care. She had nothing to loose.

Or so she thought.

–

"How to use:" Izaya read aloud, as he walked closer and closer to where the city lights gathered. It had been dark for some time now, around ten o'clock. He held the notebook out in front of him, thumbs pressed together within the gutter of its structure. He ceased his jolly trot so that he could have an easier time reading the context inside.

He continued, "The human whose name is written in this note shall die."

Talk about expecting the unexpected. Here he was, thinking it was some kind of poem. Only to discover the very first sentence engraved in here were some instructions. But they were kind of creepy, which is to be expected. Seriously, who came up with this stuff?

Of course, he was simply entertaining the creator. There was no way that such ability could be given to humans. Reality is reality, and it spoke that such supernatural tools did not exist. But still, Izaya felt obligated to read further. Why? Maybe it was because he wanted to distract himself briefly from the boredom he will soon have to suffer from.

"The note will not take effect unless the writer has the person's face in their mind when writing his or her name. Therefore, people sharing the same name will not be affected."

Izaya made a mental note that the creator of this notebook had actually put some thought into it.

"If the cause of is written within the next forty seconds of writing that person's name, it will happen. If the cause of death is not specified, the person will simply die of a heart attack."

After scanning the rest of the instructions, he discovered that they were just details that he didn't care about for the moment.

He wanted to test it out. Even though he knew it wouldn't actually work, he was still interested enough to see it through. Why not? That is the question people would asked when faced with no other excuses. And besides, what better way to test it out by using his oh-so willing to die acquaintance that he was 'suppose' to meet today.

If say that this was all true and the notebook is capable of such godly deeds, there was no way Orihara Izaya would reduce himself to murder – even if not direct. It just wasn't his style. He'd rather have others do the work for him. Watching from the sidelines to see how it all plays out was his specialty. Plus, he'd rather not run into the risk of getting caught. He refused to wear stripes… or face execution.

Ah. But then again, the police quarters stationed in Shinjuku and Ikebukuro are rather useless. Izaya could probably get away with it. Besides, they'll be too wrapped up in dealing with the outbreak in gang wars to spot out a single individual like Izaya. The fact that the police sometimes depend on his information, works in his favor as well.

He closed the notebook. Then, with one hand he slipped into his coat pocket and took out his cell phone.

He grinned, rather sinisterly, at the numbers glaring back at him. "Almost time."

With that said, he slid the phone back into his pocket.

–

Lights of all kind circled around him, once Izaya entered the busier streets of Ikebukuro. It was no surprise to him that there were still a large number of people who gathered at these parts. They were all mostly just teens, adults in their twenties or thirties. They ranged from late time business workers, to colored gang members. So many things could happen it would still be lost amongst this crowd.

Still, Izaya needed an audience.

But, he had no time to further examine his surroundings. He had a pray that he must seek out before one of his pawns take action (mind you, he ordered them to).

And there she was.

A soft brunette with two wavy pigtails, milk-chocolate colored irises, pale complexion, delicate body structure, and clothes thrown naturally together. Like everyone else, she blended right in with the rest of the world.

Well, if she does decide to kill herself tonight… she'll just be another Jane Doe who took life for granted.

The plan was simple, complicated if from her perspective. He'll test out this little notebook first, because raging curiosity wanted him to try it out once and prove reality right. Afterwards, he'll swiftly move back into the crowd and let his pawns take over. One pawn will lead the willing girl back to their car, and the rest is for the Headless Rider will deal with.

Izaya noticed from the corner of his vision that the said pawn was currently making his way towards the same target. But having already reached the girl first, he set his plans quickly into motion.

"Hello! I'm here to ask you for your help in saving those poor homeless animals you see every day on the streets. It won't take up much of time; all we require from you is your name!" With all smiles and a lively attitude, Izaya opened the notebook to a random page and extended a pen (that he stole from some nerd-passerby when they weren't looking).

If his hunch was correct, the girl would first be suspicious, and then shrug it off. She nodded once, took the pen from him and proceeded to write her full name. Seeing that she will die soon, she didn't care what his true intentions were. Izaya didn't even need an excuse. He could have told her to sign her name here without any reason behind it, and she would still do it. Plus, the girl was so serious about dying; she won't even bother to give him a false name. He had to force himself from smiling at the girl's foolish determination.

"Alright then, thanks for you participation!"

With that said, he disappeared into the mass of tourists and into the shadows.

The girl only giving him a solemn glance before her attention came upon a well dress man.

"Yes?"

"Mezenda-san?" She nodded her head once, gave a light smile before answering, "Yes."

"Oh, are you Nakura-san?"

"Good! I figured it was you." The man clasped his hands together.

She knew that this man was not Nakura. The way he acted, dressed, looked. Although she wasn't expecting a messy looking man with torn clothes, this person looked too content with his lifestyle to be that Nakura. Was this just a set up? Or has she been lied to? She didn't care. Maybe this was fate telling her that her time is near.

"Hello." She bowed politely. "Nice to meet you."

He smiled… conceding his main objectives. "Nice to meet you, too."

"Shall we get going?" he had already started walking.

"Okay." The girl answered, unsure if she was heard.

She only managed to take several steps after the man before she felt something jerk in her chest, causing her to cease movement.

Without any warning whatsoever, her heart stopped beating… completely. No metaphors.

Her lungs refused to take in any air, and she appeared as though she was choking. Her senses refused to listen to her, eyes rolling to back of her head and appendages twitched sporadically.

Terrified. She was absolutely terrified. She wanted to say that this was exactly what she wanted, but in truth, she couldn't. All she could think about at that moment was sitting down at the small dinner table with her parents. Her dad telling the same dub jokes, and she was eating her mom's stew that tasted too sweet.

Then she collapsed, mind and body both, on the damp and dirty streets of Ikebukuro. Alone.

Someone cried out. It was by that, the people's attention shifted between the body on the ground and the man she must have been acquainted with. All eyes were startled at the turn of events. A bystander had noticed her fall and came to her aid, only to discover that the girl no longer had a pulse.

"She's dead." Said the bystander, some gasped from the onlookers followed his statement.

The man she was following panicked. And so, without any rational thinking he chose the most suspicious action there is: he ran.

He ran back to his partners that waited for him and girl in a van. The police not too far behind.

In all the panic and confusion, no one had heard the genuine laughter that came from the man who looked over the crowd.

–

The Dullahan, or Headless Rider, was right in the middle of taking out her black horse/motorcycle onto another assignment given to her by a troublemaking informant, when – speak of the devil – he called her.

"Hi-hi! Never mind about the assignment today. I'm giving you a break! Ciao~"

Just like that, the call ended.

Celty the Headless Rider titled her helmet at her friend standing next her, donning that white lab coat. His name was Kishitani Shinra, and he lifted an eyebrow in surprise. They were both obviously thinking the same thing.

"That was awfully strange of him." Was all Shinra could muster.

It was an understatement. Between the sociopath characteristics and provocative tendencies, Izaya was not the type to change plans or do things half-assed. Everything just worked out to his benefit, whether he planned for it or not. There could only be a few explanations could explain this sudden behavior, none of which were good.

With her PDA, Celty typed.

He sounds like he's in a good mood…

The two immediately shuddered. Orihara Izaya is happier than usual?

Certainly no one was safe.

–

Later that night, Izaya was met with another pleasant surprise.

Ryuugaki: I accept.