My Overrated Perspective - Part 1

Yosuke

AN: DRRR! quickly became one of my favorite anime ever. Celty was just so epic, and Shizuo was, surprisingly, my favorite character, despite how his personality and backstory have been done a million times over in every anime. He was just so fun to watch! And I guess the "I'll just use this VENDING MACHINE, or perhaps this OFF-RAMP SIGN as a weapon, kthnx" thing was amazingly awesome.

As a note, I was far more fond of the idea of using the Japanese quotations marks for Celty's speech, however I couldn't figure them out in the alt-codes, plus even if I did, I wouldn't really want to type them in everytime the chick talks, so I just ended up using brackets instead to substitute. Sorry!

Story takes place after the Saika arc and before the Yellow Scarves' return. Story is in relation to the anime, not to the graphic novels.

DRRR! not mine.

I don't know if I ever should have found it strange that others relied so heavily on my opinion sometimes. In a sense, it did bother me that everyone could find me so important when I clearly only had one job, and that was to be a courier, a task that required very little input from me. I did what I was paid to do, or sometimes whatever Shinra asked. I think people just get a kick out of trying to talk to me and seeing me respond with such an unconventional form of primary communication. Yes, phones and PDAs and all sorts of electronic devices were generally acceptable as ways of talking to other people, but not quite to the extent that I had to use them, and I think most of my clients and friends found it interesting, even comical, that my fast-paced typing was my way of getting by.

I admit that getting some of the attention was nice, even flattering, but sometimes it felt like I were standing in the middle of a crowd of spectators and each one wanted to see me jump through a flaming hoop because no one else could. Again, it was flattering up to a certain point, but after a while the searing glances of everyone, so inquisitive about this strange creature amongst them, became a bother and rather embarrassing. That's mainly why I had such a tendency to hole myself up in the apartment with Shinra, which more times than not was counterproductive. He examined me more than anyone else. While other people would have the courtesy to at least cover up their stares, Shinra relented, compounding me day after day with thorough scientific analysis about why I did whatever and how it was done. Given the man was a scientist and a doctor, I couldn't blame him, but after a while the hamster is going to fall out of the wheel; I needed my space.

So into my bedroom I often went, putting away my laptop and lying in the quiet solidarity of my privacy. At times this could remind me of a deep loneliness I had experienced once but my non-existent mind was hesitant to let me remember in the slightest. However, I could ignore it and rest, wondering about tomorrow and how much stranger my life could get.

Don't misunderstand me; I liked the people I knew. I don't want anyone to ever think that I didn't like being around them, because to me these people were the most interesting people anyone could ever come to know, and I was fortunate enough to be their friend. And all the attention they gave me was warranted, for how many people in the world could say they encountered a headless person on a daily basis? It was with trepidation that I often found myself just as amazed by these people as they were with me. Izaya, for instance, was a confounding person and often I felt like I could never understand what he was thinking. But his messages, often cryptic, were completely tangible and I could only sit back and wonder at his thought process. And despite what it may have obviously looked like, I think Izaya had more respect for me than anyone else did, which was nice, I guess. The man frightened me sometimes, though. He had the personality of a deranged schoolboy ready to shoot up the faculty and bullies for always undermining him. But as far as I could tell, Izaya was relatively sane, though it was difficult to remain in a conversation with him, because it always felt like he was playing mind tricks, and at any moment I would somehow be persuaded to kill anyone who ever dared to look at me. Izaya could definitely be frightening.

Then there was the schoolmates, Mikado, Kida, and Sonohara. Kida was the one I'd never come to know personally, but from the way Mikado talked about him, he was a genuine person, someone I'd like to have acquaintances with. Sonohara was a dear girl, very lovely and timid and very respectful of me, which was something I always appreciated. And Mikado, our great leader, was the only one I could ever call down-to-earth. He'd seen both sides of one world, the calm and peaceful life he'd lived once before, and the shallow and torrential life of the city of Ikebukuro. Everything always seemed to faze him, which was always rather amusing to see, but deep down I knew it wouldn't shake him. He was, after all, our leader, the one to create the Dollars. To be the head of a gang took a real backbone, and I wasn't at all ashamed to say that this scrawny, short little boy was the strongest person I ever knew.

There were so many others left, so many I'd known and liked or disliked, people I'd hurt or defeated, people I'd saved, people who scared me or angered me... Shinra's dad I could skip wasting a thought on, Simon, who could make you believe he was anyone's friend, that group of Dollars' members who traveled in a van like a bunch of bankrobbers fleeing a heist, the Yellow Scarves, who I was adamant about avoiding for the sole purpose of trying to keep my evenings peaceful, the Blue Squares, who were relatively quiet and withered as a formidable gang, the girl from Raira Academy who'd feigned stealing me head and the boy who was in love with her (or rather, my head)... So many people, so much activity in one town known for its uproarious behavior. Though, in the back of my head (so to speak), I felt like I had been forgetting someone...

My thoughts were interrupted by the horn of a car blaring behind me. I turned to look, seeing a couple of teenagers hanging out of the windows of their car as they rode closely behind me on the highway. They were waving and cheering, calling "Go Headless Rider! You're the boss!" Again, the attention was kind of nice, but it felt unsettling, especially coming from such reckless people who would rather cheer on a perfect stranger than pay attention to the road. But I thought I'd humor them by giving them a small wave, then spurring my bike to go faster, my horse belting out a whinny as I propped up on one wheel and peeled off into the darkness of the oncoming tunnel, promptly disappearing from everyone's view. I ended up rounding out of the tunnel on the other side and cruising to a slow drift along a rather empty street. I spotted Yellow Scarves hanging out in an alleyway opening, eying me dangerously as I passed, but I paid them no heed. On the street corner was a crackhead, sucking ravenously at the end of a blunt, too high to realize he was using in public.

Farther up was a small group of people hanging out at a bus stop, talking loudly about whatever and not even noticing me as I passed. And finally, at the end of the street was a dilapidated building with another group of Yellow Scarves seated in front of it. This group seemed to be a little unsure of my presence, eyes going wide and seemingly waiting to see if I was going to attack. I didn't even give them a second glance as I turned and headed down another street.

If not for my acute senses, I would have never heard the faint thud from about two blocks over. I stopped my bike and listened. I was supposed to be meeting Izaya here, or else I would have never come to such a decrepit neighborhood, and part of me was starting to feel insulted that I had been stood up, but the thud had been my reassurance that he had indeed been there and on time. However, there was someone else there to preoccupy him, the person I had forgotten to mention before.

I reared my horse and took off in the direction of the noise, approaching a similar street as before, this one having an obvious trail of destruction. It was a classic scene, and none would be too surprised to see, at the source of this carnage, was Shizuo Heiwajima, sporting his mandatory bartender uniform and the tire from a broken down car three feet away. At the opposite end, as expected, was Izaya Orihara, hands in his pockets and his face partially obscured by the fur-lined hood of his jacket. From here, I could still tell he was smiling that wicked grin, his body tensed and ready for action. Just barely visible, I could see the outline of his fingers in his jacket pocket twitching, grasping the concealed knife he was ready to use at any moment.

I heaved my shoulders in a mock-sigh and sat back, crossing my arms and waiting for this pointless encounter to end. Truthfully, if this went on for too long, I'd text Izaya an apology and head on home. But luckily it wouldn't come to that. Izaya was already aware of my presence, and scoffed a little towards Shizuo.

"I'm sorry, Shizu, but I've got some business to take care of. I'll take a raincheck on this playdate."

Shizuo promptly responded with some enraged roar of incoherent words, hurling the tire at Izaya like a discus thrower in the Olympics. The other man easily dodged it and skipped happily over to me, stopping just short of my bike. In the background, I saw Shizuo stiffen, his face tinting a little, this time from embarrassment instead of rage. I doubt he was embarrassed about acting so brutish in front of me, but rather that he hadn't acknowledged my being there. It was nice to know that Shizuo, for all this gruesome reputation and short fuse, could still be such a gentleman.

Izaya beamed at me from beneath his hood, standing straight though his frame never eased from its stiffness. That was the effect Shizuo had on him, like a skittish cat with a bulldog nearby. Izaya wouldn't be relaxed until his nemesis left.

"I'm so happy to see you, Miss Sturluson. I apologize for not being in the pre-designated spot, however Shizu seemed more intent on playing with me than I with you."

The mere act of Izaya talking to me seemed to upset Shizuo all over again, and he went back to the rusted car, barbarically pulling off another tire. There was no way Izaya couldn't hear the ruckus, though he ignored it politely.

"It's so noisy here. Would you like to go to a restaurant instead? I'm sure Simon would be pleased to see you."

I promptly whipped out my PDA and began typing quickly, then turned it to show him.

[Shinra has potstickers and curry waiting at home. Thank you, though. Can we just move this along?]

"Ah, yes, yes, my girl. I wouldn't want to keep you from your evening plans."

[Duck.]

Izaya dropped into a squat and I lay flat against my bike as the tire sailed beautifully over our heads. As soon as it passed, Izaya stood straight again and continued like nothing had happened. "I actually don't have much to tell you this time around except that I won't be needing you for the next two weeks."

[Why is that?]

"It's nothing against you, dear," Izaya reassured, though I hadn't been suspecting any personal distaste from the start. "I just have matters to take care of that will probably be occupying most of my time."

[Duck.]

Another tire flew by. Izaya again stood straight and chuckled. "I think he's out of tires now."

[He's going for the bumper.]

"Ah, then I'll finish now. There's going to be a gathering of Blue Squares tomorrow night at the docks. Not such a refined gathering location, but I commend them on their tenacity. They're discussing possibly taking down someone who's been a thorn in their side. I'm not really sure who, but from the way it sounds, it could turn into something pretty big. That is, unless you interfere."

[Why should it matter to you or me what the Blue Squares do?]

"Think about it," Izaya said with a sigh. "If they need to take down someone who's been putting them through some trouble, who else could it be but someone on the more powerful side of Ikebukuro?"

[A powerful person? That could be any number of people.]

"Yes, but my dear, don't you know all the most powerful people in Ikebukuro? Most have been your clients at some point."

Izaya was right, as much as I hated to admit it. And like I said before, I didn't hate any of the people I knew. So someone I considered a friend was probably going to get a hit placed on them tomorrow night. I visibly shuddered at the thought, and Izaya chuckled again.

"Glad to see we're on the same page. I'd step in to help myself, but like I said, I've got business to take care of for a week or two."

[How utterly convenient for you.]

Izaya laughed and pulled back his hood, looking over his shoulder towards Shizuo, who had finally stopped his assault but still held the large rusted bumper in his hands, ready for the next move. "Sorry, Shizu. I do hope you'll forgive me, but I must be on my way."

"Oh, no you don't!" Shizuo half-screamed and hoisted the bumper over his shoulder like a javelin. But the smaller man stood his ground and waited. To my surprise, Shizuo didn't throw the item, but instead stood awkwardly with the thing in his hand like he'd just suffered a terrible leg cramp. Izaya once again laughed and turned on his heel, taking off towards the buildings to disappear into an alley. Shizuo grunted and threw the bumper. It met a clumsy end smashing into the side of the building the other man had disappeared behind, filling the empty street with a splitting 'klang' noise before falling to the pavement.

Shizuo was gritting his teeth; I could tell from where I was. The urge to chase the information dealer was evident in his shaking body, but in a rather uncharacteristic manner, Shizuo resisted and instead turned to face me. I wasn't sure what greeting to give, though I was so used to his brash nature by now that it shouldn't have been that difficult to gesture a proper hello, but I ended up just lamely waving my hand instead. At that, Shizuo sighed and approached me, each step hesitant like I was going to scold him or something.

"How can you stand that guy?" he asked quietly, trying hard not to let his voice reflect his rage. I shrugged.

[He takes some getting used to.] It wasn't the answer he wanted to read, I'm sure, but I just wasn't sure what else to say. I liked Izaya, and Shizuo didn't. That was alright, and I think, for some reason, Shizuo accepted that as well.

"Am I keeping you from doing something?"

[No. The job is for tomorrow night.]

Shizuo gave a "hmph" and turned his head, for some reason not wanting to make eye contact with me, though I knew he was well aware I had no eyes to begin with. It may have been the bike helmet that acted as a replacement head. I thought for a moment to take it off so perhaps it would ease him a bit, but I decided against it. I wasn't terribly fond of not having my substitute head on, and even though I knew Shizuo could be a gentleman about it, I always felt like people were staring. The only one who I could stand doing this around was Shinra.

I thought back on Shinra for a moment, remembering what I had told Izaya about the dinner Shinra had bought for us. Izaya knew just as well as I that I did not eat, but to make up for my lack of appetite, I had my presence serve as an appropriate dinner gift to Shinra, who always served me food but knew I would not eat it.

I stole a glance back at Shizuo, who seemed lost in thought, so I quickly typed up something to grab his attention again. He looked back at my PDA.

[Why did you wait to throw the bumper?]

At that, Shizuo's face tinted again, quickly turning away from me and digging his hands into his pockets. "He was standing too close to you. If I'd have thrown it, it would've hit you too."

That startled me a little. The typing on my PDA seemed to grab his attention again and he glanced back over his shoulder to read my response.

[You threw the tire, though.]

"Because I knew either both of you would dodge or he would get hit, blocking you from the blow."

[You're very courteous.]

Again Shizuo let out a disappointed grunt. "So... What's the job for tomorrow then?"

[The Blue Squares are trying to stir up trouble. They're placing a hit.]

Shizuo hardly seemed interested, and I couldn't blame him. I barely even wanted to go to the meeting tomorrow night myself, but the prospect of having two weeks off afterwards held much better promise than the torment Izaya would put me through if I didn't go. Don't get me wrong; the man would never lay a hand on me (I think he was too afraid to try, and a good thing too. I would kick his ass). But he could send me harassing texts and mess with my daily life so easily that the only way I could stop him was to threaten his life, which was a promise I never made good on. I liked Izaya, and he knew it, so at the most he humored my threats, but knew I would never take the final step to kill him. Besides, I wasn't fond of killing. Despite my lineage, spilling blood just didn't suit me.

I came out of my thoughts to see Shizuo watching me curiously, and I shivered. If not for those sunglasses he wore, I'm sure I would feel two holes burning through my biker suit.

[What's wrong?]

He looked a little embarrassed, though he tried to cover it up. "Do you need help?"

This guy always seemed to take me by surprise, and I was always astounded by how much respect I could have for him. Everyone else feared this man so much, and yet I never even flinched around him. Maybe he acted differently around me? Yes, I suppose he did. Or it could've just been all women. Perhaps he was just fearful of females. That seemed rather likely, as I could tell seduction wouldn't be one of his many talents.

Realizing I hadn't answered yet, I started typing rapidly again.

[No, thank you. I'm not supposed to interfere with the meeting.] I pulled it back and typed a little more. [I just have to help out someone afterwards.]

"Who?"

[Not sure. That's why I'm going to the meeting, to find out.]

Shizuo seemed to accept the assignment as if he'd been asked to do it instead. He gave a half-shrug and grunted. "Whatever. Just try not to start anything."

I cocked my head (bike helmet) to the side in confusion.

"If you need help..." Shizuo once again looked a little embarrassed as he turned his head away from me. "Just ask, okay? You don't need to take on a whole gang by yourself."

I quickly typed a response. [I have no intention of fighting. I just want to] but I stopped when Shizuo walked away, not even looking over his shoulder at me or checking to see if I had been giving a response. Silently, he walked from the empty street and started on his way back into the busier side of Ikebukuro. I was left alone in the old neighborhood, staring after him and still holding my PDA as if I needed to finish typing. Finally giving up on seeing him return, I put my device away and reared my horse, taking off back the way I came and heading home. Shinra was waiting for me. With potstickers.

End of Part 1 - To Be Continued