(lol I don’t know but this is fun. More will come soon, and no this is not a yaoi sorry)
(oh and if you know how to make this a ‘read more’ post that would be appreciated cuz i’m sorry it’s ruining your dash right now)
It was just another average day in Ikebukuro. The streets teemed with traffic; students flowed to and from the academies-
And a vending machine sailed through the air.
Its intended target, a young man wearing a fur-lined jacket and a smug grin, calmly stepped out of the way. The machine splintered on impact with the road, sodas and water bottles bleeding everywhere. His fingers curled around the switchblade in his pocket, eyes keenly trained on the creature that tossed the machine in the first place.
Less than fifteen feet down the street, a tall man in Weskit and suit pants returned to his full height, his breathing strained. Several cuts lined his face and his shirtsleeves.
“What are you doing here, flea?” The bartender demanded.
His rival shrugged and feigned an innocent pout.
“I was just in the neighborhood to visit some old friends.” He replied in a childish tone of voice, “Is that so terrible?”
The bartender’s glare narrowed and his hands itched for something to throw. Soon they wrapped themselves around a nearby pedestrian-crossing sign, yanking it from the cement.
“Nothing good ever comes of you being here!” He declared, hurling the road sign like a javelin.
The other man rolled out of the way, dodging the missile. As he braked to a halt, his attention came to rest on a half-empty bottle of milk only a foot away.
“You seem tense, Shizu-chan-” The sly delinquent remarked, snatching the bottle up.
Shizuo blanched as he recognized the container in his opponent’s grasp.
“You stay away from that!” He warned, reaching for a corner mailbox.
The flea smiled and pulled his arm back for a pitch:
“How about a drink!”
The milk bottle arced through the air with a strange sort of grace. Shizuo followed it anxiously, every muscle tensed in preparation for its landing. He ran forward, kicked off the ground, and managed to grab the bottle moments before it would have shattered on the road. The bartender regained his balance and blew a sigh of relief.
But to his fury, the flea was trying to escape while his back was turned!
At the sight of his sworn enemy’s coat flapping in the wind, Shizuo was possessed by a horrible rage. His legs pumped themselves, propelling him forward as a hoarse growl leapt from his throat:
“Where do you think you’re going!”
And without thinking, he threw the one thing in his hands- the milk bottle. His aim was honest and true; the container struck the man’s skull with enough force to send him sprawling onto the concrete. The bottle imploded and white liquid burst from it like shrapnel, soaking its mark’s clothes and skin.
Shizuo grinned wildly, panting like a dog despite never actually experiencing fatigue. He took his steps slowly. Triumph rode high in his blood, fireworks shooting off in his brain. Finally, finally the damn pest couldn’t run anymore. A thin stream of blood dampened the flea’s dark hair, and his face bore a unique expression of utter stupefaction.
“Izaya-“ The bartender chuckled, ecstatic at having finally captured his lifelong nemesis.
Horns blaring- a split second of blinding headlights-
And suddenly Shizuo was flying.
He hit the ground hard. Sparks tingled through his body and gathered before his eyes. Dull pain twisted his limbs and joints, but he was nearly used to it by now. Still, Shizuo could not help the darkness hemming his vision and the disorientation drowning his senses.
He’d nail that flea in a second…he just needed a quick nap first.
35 minutes earlier
A motorcycle, black as night and silent as a shadow. To many, its appearance was a sign of doom and despair; to others, the black motorbike was an unfathomable mystery.
To Shizuo, it was a friend.
He was happy to wave it over when the infamous Black Rider pulled to a stop on the side of the road. The bartender was on one of his numerous smoke-breaks of the day (it was easier to call them ‘smoke-breaks’ than it was to call them ‘if-I-don’t-leave-the-room-right-now-I’m-going-to-beat-the-shit-out-of-something-breaks’). He’d known the legend personally for eight years now, and he could almost perceive its expressions. Not nearly as well as his acquaintance Shinra could, but it was still something.
“Hey,” Shizuo greeted the rider with a nod, “What’s up?”
The apparition pulled a PDA from the inside of its suit and typed in a quick sentence. Then it held the device up for the bartender to see.
[Not much, just a quick job. You?]
“I’m on break.”
The rider tilted its head (Shizuo recognized this as either curiosity or internal debate). It tapped a finger against its PDA a few times, but didn’t write anything. The bartender raised his eyebrows until eventually it started to text.
[Actually, would you like a bottle of milk?]
Shizuo thought for a moment and then replied, “Sure.” He wasn’t going to say no to a free milk, but it was sort of unusual for it to have one.
The Black Rider continued to text and display.
[Shinra gave me a bottle before I left this morning. I’m not sure why; I guess he forgot that I can’t drink. I thought you might like it, though.]
Shizuo watched as a large black bubble rose from the motorbike and floated towards him. The rider flicked its wrist and the blob began to dissipate. The bartender held out his hand until the wrapping vanished completely, revealing a glass bottle filled with white liquid and sealed with a pink ribbon. It dropped harmlessly into Shizuo’s grip.
“Huh,” Shizuo said. “Thanks.”
[No problem. I’ve got to get going now- have a nice day!]
Shizuo gave it a brief wave and the rider regained its position on the bike, which brayed loudly as it picked up speed. The bartender smiled to himself as the inky shadow grew fainter and fainter. There was not a long list of people who wished him a nice day, ‘people’ or otherwise.
However…something about that bottle irked him. He thought about it as he headed back to work, walking the streets of ‘Bukuro. Say what you want about his observational skills, but Shizuo understood character very well. And he knew that it was very unlike Shinra to forget anything about his roommate, much less something as obvious as its inability to ingest liquids. This whole thing…didn’t seem right.
Still, he didn’t see the harm in a bottle of milk.
The bartender uncapped his drink and took a sip, shaded eyes searching the crowd for his dreadlocked boss. Tom was exceedingly lenient with Shizuo’s “smoke-breaks”, but that didn’t mean he was lazy in the slightest.
Unfortunately, Shizuo’s search did not progress far. Instead of a pair of glasses, a red tie, and a suit, the bartender found a messy shrub of dark hair, a grin, and a fur-lined coat. Shizuo nearly vomited his milk at the sight.
“Izaya!” He growled lowly, fists clenching at once. Izaya returned his stare eagerly, even nudging his way towards the furious bartender. Shizuo used his last ounce of self-restraint to put his bottle on the ground. After all, it was a gift from Celty, and he didn’t want to accidently crush it.
There was something else he really needed to crush right now.