A/N: Eek. I've been away for a while, I think, and decide to reappear with this – something I'll probably delete unless anyone actually likes this. I keep wanting to write an Izaya x OC, and never actually do through with it.

I'll try to update everything else ASAP, but maybe people will go for this for now... :X?

high on cruel

PROLOGUE

"I'm off to school."

A quiet announcement to equally silent parents.

Yukari's brown eyes looked up from the burnt piece of toast in her hand to the man and woman sitting at the table. Her father, as usual, had his newspaper glued to nose, face buried in the business portion of the paper. Her mother stirred the coffee in front of her, not bothering to look away from the photo that sat on top of the kitchen window ledge.

"Alright," her mother replied absently.

Realizing she wouldn't be getting a Have a nice day at school, dear or Make sure you pay attention to your studies, Yukari spared one last glance at them before moving to the door to put on her loafers. She waited a moment more after placing her hand on the knob – maybe in some vain hope she'd get one of the above statements – and when it didn't come, she slipped out the door and began her walk to school.

The weather outside was just as bleak as she felt; the way she'd felt since that day almost a year ago.

She kicked a stray pebble that lay in her path, fingers closing in around the piece of toast so tightly that the charred slice crumbled in her fist, falling to the sidewalk as she continued her slow pace to Raira.

How could you? It's such a mess, and it's all your fault.

Your mess, and now I'm supposed to clean it up?

Except, she couldn't.

If only she could figure out why – why what had happened happened. Perhaps she'd be able to give some closure to herself, maybe to her parents; maybe they would stop stewing in their guilt and what she was sure were endless questions of what went wrong.

Maybe she could get away from her own.

But there was nothing for her to go on. Where to start? Where to look? Those were the questions she had wondered to herself every time she thought about it.

Would it even matter?

It wasn't until lunchtime that she'd get the start she needed and decided it could maybe matter – the start that she should've left alone.

"Did you hear about what happened yesterday by Sunshine 60? Apparently, that Heiwajima and Orihara got into another fight."

Yukari tucked a lock of dyed, honey blonde hair behind her ear, staring at the rain pattering on the window as her classmates murmured around her. Heiwajima and Orihara – she'd heard of them, or at least their disputes. She wouldn't have cared to listen to more, but the conversation was going on right behind her, and so the chatter flowed into her ears anyway.

"I don't know why Orihara hasn't figured out some sort of way to win yet. I mean, he is an informant. He knows everything, I heard."

Informant. She turned the word over inside of her head – everything, the student had said.

"Everything? Something tells me even that wouldn't help him find a weakness on Heiwajima. He's a beast, for sure."

"I don't know about that. He's got the dirt on everyone and everything. And if he doesn't, I'm sure he easily could. I heard he works for the mob, too. It's scary, some of the things I've heard about that guy..."

She straightened up a little more, swallowing before turning around to face the two boys behind her. "This Orihara you're talking about..."

They looked up at her with raised brows, clearly wondering why she had interrupted their conversation.

"Where can I find him?"

That was how she'd found herself wandering around Shinjuku, soaked and shivering in her pasty blue Raira uniform. It had been a stupid idea – she wasn't sure what she'd been thinking. Looking for something (or someone, rather) that might as well have been one of the mysteries of the city was nothing but a wild goose chase.

An informant. How ridiculous; they were just in movies and in gossip spread around classrooms. Did they even exist?

And again, the thought meandered back to her: Would it make any difference if they did? She sat on the steps outside of some nondescript, though higher than middle class, condominiums and drew out her cellphone. Two hours after school had let out, and no concerned call from her parents. No calls from the friends she didn't have, wondering what she was doing – she wasn't exactly surprised. She flipped it shut, putting it into her bag, before staring blankly at her feet.

It was just her, the rain, and the gray passerby that continued on their way. They didn't pay any attention to the sopping wet girl on the steps, the girl that had nothing else but her thoughts and the mystery she wanted solved. How childish of her to think pursuing some tip from a fellow student would make things any better in her life. She was the only one who could do that.

Right?

Yukari was in the process of trying to hold back tears that she was angry were starting to show up, when a pair of black shoes stepped into her line of sight.

"What's this? What's a young Raira student like you doing all the way out in Shinjuku?"

Slowly, her gaze traveled up legs clad in dark pants, making their way to a pale, handsome face. A furry hood was pulled up over his head to keep him dry, and it cast shadows over his narrow eyes.

"And all alone, too. I thought most girls were too afraid to venture out of their neighborhoods by themselves?"

And because she either didn't see the hurt in it or didn't care enough to, she told him. She'd go home after this, and she promised herself she'd forget about this informant nonsense. She would bite the bullet and accept the fact that she needed to stop thinking about a ghost.

"I'm... I was looking for someone. I only had a name to go by, and I don't even know what I'd say when I found him, anyway. It's – It was kind of stupid." She bit her lip, then grabbed her bag and stood up, preparing to leave.

"Stupid, you say?" The man continued, even after she'd began descending the steps. "And why is that?"

She stopped and peered up at him, squinting her eyes as to avoid getting rain in them. The man was still facing her, listening intently. Yukari wondered why he cared, let alone even spoke to her in the first place, but still answered. "Because I'm looking for some sort of myth. It feels like that, at least."

"A myth? How interesting!" He chuckled. "What kind of myth?"

"Not really a myth, I guess. Since it's a person..." Seeing that he was still listening to her, she went on, "Orihara Izaya, as I've heard, is an informant. And things like that, if they're real – I highly doubt I'd find one. If... even if they are real, those sort of things aren't in my world."

But really, her sister's suicide hadn't been in her world either. So when the man in front of her cocked his head, went up the stairs, and looked upon her and said–

"They're real. I should know," A fresh smile curled upon his lips, "being the myth himself."

–then opened the door to the building and went inside, she couldn't bother dissuading herself from following him.

A/N: Yeah, ah, I don't know. Please review? :) I'd loooove to hear what you think.