I don't own Durarara! Or any of the characters that may appear here! (Nor do I own the song Dear You by Yuzuki.)

Izaya hummed a soft tune to himself as he sat on the edge of the tall building. The strong, high-speed winds hit him harshly, causing his body to sway dangerously. He couldn't help but smirk as the soft tune he was humming soon turned into words.

"I can't help but wonder where you are, and what you're doing right now. Are you also gazing up at this endless sky?"

The informant burst out laughing as he sung. He was pretty sure the words in that song held a completely different meaning then what he was using them for, but right now, they matched what he was doing perfectly.

"Ahh, there you are."

He pulled the small leaver on the side of his binoculars, zooming in on his target. A suave looking businessman was walking down one of the many empty alleyways in Ikebukuro. The man looked around nervously, only walking a couple of meters before stopping and looking behind himself to make sure no one was following him. He clutched the briefcase he was holding tightly to his chest, both arms wrapped around it protectively.

Izaya could feel his blood boil just looking at the man. Everything about him disgusted him. Sure, he was supposed to love all humans, even with the many flaws they held, but even god had to punish those who didn't repent for their sins.

The informant stood up and stretched, hearing the bones in his back pop back into place. He carefully climbed back over the railing of the building and ran off towards the fire escape. This was going to be interesting…

The man in the alleyway lent back against the wall behind him, the cold bricks doing nothing to help his body cool down. Sweat ran down his face and his body was trembling noticeably. Izaya almost laughed at how pitiful he looked, it suited someone like him. After all, he was only scum.

"Do you have the money?"

The man jumped about five feet at the sound of the informant's voice. He gulped as the crimson-eyed man stepped out into the moonlight, licking the flick knife he held in his hand.

"I-I-I…"

"Stop your stuttering," Izaya hissed as he pointed the knife at the man's face. "I asked if you had the money or not."

The man made a high-pitched squeak as he thrust the briefcase in his direction, his eyes stayed glued to the ground.

Izaya screwed up his face in disgust as he took the metal case, noticing that where the man's hands had been glinted with sweat in the moonlight. He placed the briefcase on the lid of a nearby garbage can and popped the locks. He smiled down at the stacks of bills before him, picking up a wad of cash. Judging by the weight of the one wad and adding it to the rest, the right amount of cash should be here. But he decided to count it just in case.

The man's foot scraped across the gravel beneath him causing Izaya's head to snap up and look at him.

"If you even move even an inch I won't hesitate to slice open your throat."

The man merely gave a slight nod in response as Izaya went back to counting the bills. The silence in the alleyway was more than uncomfortable, the only things audible were the man's heavy breathing and Izaya's whispers of 'one-hundred thousand and fifty…'

"Tell me," Izaya began, not even bothering to look up from the money in his hands, "Did my sister's ass feel good as you felt her up on that train?"

"I-I-I…"

"Is that all you can manage? 'I-I-I.'"

The informant burst into a fit of maniacal laughter as he mocked the man in front of him.

"You know people like you disgust me. You think just because my sister wears a gym uniform she is just asking to be molested? Like she deserves it?"

He scoffed.

"You should just be greatfull that you're dealing with me and not Mairu, they wouldn't even be able to recognize your body."

"J-Just give me the pictures you have, a-all of the money you asked for is there…"

"Sure, I'll give you all the pictures I have of you getting off to pictures of little girls just as soon as I finish counting this."

Silence one again resumed in the alleyway as Izaya went back to counting. The man squirmed uncomfortably against the wall, he just wanted to get those pictures back, and get the hell out of here…

"Uh-oh."

Izaya slammed closed the briefcase and stood up.

"Looks like your missing fifty dollars."

"W-what!" The man yelled, his eyes widening in horror. "T-that can't be! I took out exactly 500,000!"

"Well, as you can see there is quite a bit missing."

Izaya opened the metal case once again and pointed at the obviously empty space inside.

"Sorry, but the deal is off."

"N-No! You have to believe me! I really did put in the right amount and…"

The man bit his lower lip as the informant pressed his knife to the man's throat, the coldness of the metal burned against his hot skin. Izaya smirked as he backed the man up out of the alleyway and into the street. He quickly removed a pair of handcuffs out of his pocket and attached one end to a nearby street sign and the other end to the man's wrist.

The man gulped as he tugged uselessly at the handcuffs, trying to free himself. Izaya grinned as he pulled out his phone and began typing furiously. Brown eyes widened in horror as a bright screen was shoved into his face, one of the pictures he so desperately wanted back and the police's email address was reflected in those terrified eyes.

Izaya barely paid attention to the scream of 'no' as he pressed the send button. Usually he hated having to deal with the police because, well, he wasn't exactly the most law-abiding citizen there was. However, he figured that this man needed a change of pace. Sure, molesting teenage girls on trains was fun and all, but you haven't lived until a man in a jail cell has molested you.

The informant put away his knife and skipped down the empty street, singing quietly to cover up the man's screams that were coming from behind him. He threw the disposable phone he had used into the garbage can and continued on his way. After all, he didn't want the police to have his real phone number on file.

He laughed as he slipped his hand into his pocket, feeling a very large stack of bills in there. In fact, it almost felt as though it would fit quite nicely into the empty space in his briefcase.

"You don't ever mess with an Orihara."

Not really feeling up to being with his precious humans tonight, Izaya decided to take the quieter route back to the train station. He skipped down the many alleyways, earning a few weird looks from couples who were making out behind nightclubs. Of course he passed a few shady looking people, but he felt strangely safe. He knew no one in their right mind would ever attack him. After all, he was as infamous in this town as that beast Heiwajima Shizuo, and for pretty much the same reasons. He was considered dangerous.

Speaking of that unpredictable brute, Izaya was surprised that he hadn't had a vending machine thrown at his head yet. Normally Shizuo would have "smelt" him by now and would be chasing him back to Shinjuku. He had always hated the way the blond always said he could find him by his smell, like he was insinuating that he stank or something…

Either way it was not very flattering.

The informant frowned as his joyful skipping soon turned into a slow paced walk. He really did hate that man; he was the one thing on this planet that he just couldn't bring himself to love. But that was understandable, seeming Shizuo was so different from everyone else. Unlike his beloved humans, that blond was completely unpredictable and uncontrollable; he was nothing but a monster in his eyes.

He growled as he kicked an empty can across the empty alleyway. His eyes narrowed as he watched the can roll across the ground, coming to a stop when it hit the bottom of a rather large dumpster. Izaya was about to kick the can again when something caught his eye, something white…

Izaya raised an eyebrow as he grabbed the corner of the white sheet and felt it. It wasn't so much the sheet that grabbed his attention, but what he could see sticking out of it.

A hand.

The informant groaned as he pulled at the sheet, slowly getting it out of the bin and onto the ground in the alleyway. The top end of the sheet hit the gravel with a sickening crack causing Izaya to giggle. If they weren't dead before, they definitely were now.

"I wonder who you are?"

Izaya quickly pulled out his knife again and made a long cut down the center of the material, pulling it aside with his fingers. He couldn't stifle the crazy laughter that erupted from his mouth as he looked down at the body. Fresh blood soaked into fake blond hair and glazed over honey coloured eyes stared up at him.

This was just perfect.

"I wonder how you got yourself in this situation, my dear Shizu-chan."

A/N:

Oh my goodness. Why am I starting a new story during my exam weeks! Oh well, the idea for this story suddenly came to me one night whilst lounging on the couch and I felt as though I had to write it straight away. As fun as it is to read stories where things happen to Izaya and Shizuo has to look after him, I figured I'd change things around a little in this story. I know what you're thinking 'how can anyone seriously injure Shizuo?' Well, hopefully I'll be able to explain it a lot better later!

Thank-you for reading and reviews are very much loved!