Disclaimer: DO NOT OWN the characters of this anime. Some of the background info is taken from the anime too

Author's note: This has been edited in more ways than just grammatically. It may not match the next few chapters, maybe? I will try to upload the rest of the chapters (edited ones) soon. And then, I'll try to continue (don't put any hopes on it though)

Chapter One

There are many; varied version of human attributions that need to be addressed according to Orihara Izaya.

Izaya— you will not find him in a dark cage filled with darkness or chaotic, depressing imageries trying to compare and contrast against him (for example: pale, withdrawn psychopathic killers). You will not know him from one of those movies that contribute to human's need of being saved and save (example: the martyr and the hero). He's particularly not one of those who are afraid of scars, curses or insecurities (see above). He will not pat you in the back when you're needed comforting and cuddle against you when he feels unwanted.

He is not inhumane, per se.

Most call him a "terrifying, dangerous man" who one needs to watch out for.

"Never involve yourself with him." They may say.

"He's bad news."

And they may be right to be so cautious. For he is bad news to those he may be interested enough to experiment on. But neither a warning nor caution could ever save them from the claws of his research if he were curious enough to play with them.

He will not knock on someone's door and ask: "Will you be so kind, sir as to participate in my research about how a Homo Sapien may respond to certain circumstances? I will use you as a lab rat, of course and mess with your emotions so, you can break apart at one point and then, my point will be proven and I assure you, it's really fun and educational."

He will not hand you the informed consent to be signed upon nor will he follow ethical guidelines just for the sake of confidentiality or for fear of making someone traumatized forever.

He is not very respectful in that way.

The demonstration to the type of method he used to research had been clear enough the day he tested a young girl's willingness to commit suicide by first, acting like a very good friend who cared for her before changing faces and turning maliciously cruel.

Izaya liked to think he was better than a psychologist. Better than any person out there.

And with every little time spent within the social circles of all these people around him, he didn't think it was shallow of him to think so.

After all, it is in human nature to want attention and comfort of some kind. They cling to the egocentric part of their mind since they're born. Sure, the egocentrism melts as the child's brain develops (once they realize they're not the only one's in the whole world, waiting to be pampered and cared for), but people never lose the tiny glaze of hope for their own ego. It is their ego that keeps on making them want to live. That is the purpose to which they move every day; to know that they have something to look forward to the next day. It is what will make them keep walking, to keep yearning the unreachable but not the impossible: the future.

In that regard, Izaya far surpasses them. He does not feel the need to look forward or toward another.

Hope has a certain extent to it though. When another person tells you that you're incapable of being someone you so dearly wish to be -in your dreams, in your wildest, darkest fantasies (something you're embarrassed ever to be found upon but hold so dearly to your heart)- you lose that tiny sparkle of emotion and set through various stages that one is none too capable of knowing.

Oh, the guileless pariahs of this world, all but wishing to be someone special. No matter how one names it, every person in this world would wish to be that unique individual whose name is supposed be so big in fairy tales, but is so tiny in reality. One may try and deny that image; the image of being ordinary, of not being needed, but the desires were still there. No-one could ignore it.

And the boys of this world, insecure and small, cut-out by their own dread. By the curse they've put on themselves: that they're the superior ones, that they're one step ahead of woman and suffer when they fall short on their superiority. The elephant in the room cannot be ignored when they assume to have the burden of being the responsible one: the leader, and the soldier and then, can't do it.

And every day, all these people worry only about themselves. Never thinking or worrying about the person who had the same circumstances, the same state of mind. Selfish enough, self-absorbed enough to believe that the pain they go through is not the pain others have.

That kind of egocentric attitude still exists in adults and adolescence who think they're mature enough to have an opinion. Opinions are united, interconnected. One may assume that they are two different things but surely, everything is associated to anything.

You cannot defy the logic of physics and literature. You cannot get ahead of yourself and make assumption based on common sense alone. Just as you can't withdraw yourself from society so as to get away from conformity and all its vague little rules.

Humans were deficient in that field.

Expressing.

Fighting.

The only thing that Izaya could prove that he was one of those human beings was the admittance: he can be taken off-guard. He hated, unconditionally. He denied internally and fought unwillingly. And he overestimated sometimes.

Only in regards to that one person.

Izaya had thought so many times of killing that hindrance once and for all and be done with it. Because these emotions were quite the contrary to the steely maniac that he was made out to be. Surely, Shizu-chan was ruining him for everything.

But human kind was also one of a kind. With every error, every mistake, humans could learn to adapt and resist.

Survival is in people's very own blood. It rakes through them, non-stop. Of course, humans have a habit of blocking the survival by being sensitive, being sensible, being compassionate and empathetic. But no matter what happens; they always think of themselves even if they don't like to admit it to themselves; that is an example of survival. One, who could be perfectly capable of depending on a person, once when loses that person, clings to the next one. One, who would prefer to call herself or himself an honest and good person will have the instinct, the drive to protect themselves before anyone else, because they think they deserve being saved before anyone else. Oh, there may be few who do save others, but what will their thoughts end up on once their heroic deed is done at the end of the day:

I want to live.

That is: Human kind.

It is in human nature to adapt, to change and to explore their boundaries. Unless a threat comes, they do not cross that boundary as of much. Atavistic people, however, do try. Man with little sensibility to their own limits.

Like Shizu-chan. He sneered as he thought about that. Not many people go far and beyond their physical capabilities just out of frustration and anger. And atavistic people mostly, looked like apes; that was the job description. Shizuo Heiwajima did not look like an ape, (though, he sure acted like one) but he had no sensibilities, no sensitivities; not in the physical way.

Izaya loved humans for their predictability, but that pain-in-the-ass with his loud and noisy interruptions and his unparalleled strength. Izaya closed his eyes, a smile that looked almost content on his lips before his lips turned down at the little slip.

An evening tea gone without thinking about that man would be heaven on earth, but the fun of every subject, every result was soured in an almost depressing manner when Shizu-chan would interrupt. And he always did. He had a knack for finding Izaya when he was planning nefarious deeds and tries to put a stop it. Which is why, Izaya always has to take Shizu-chan's appearance into consideration as he acted, not as he planned. Shizu-chan did not move like a piece of chess. He moved obstructively, all over the place and never where he should be.

And somehow, Shizu-chan had seeped his way into his thoughts again. Izaya realized with resentment. His teeth pressed together before he stood up from his office seat.

He turned around and looked out the wide transparent glass. Staring down at the world going about in front of him, the unpleasant object of his contemplation slowly faded out of his mind as he folded his arms and looked at the people milling about on the pavement. There were cars going in and out, sounds of horns and engines and pedestrian's walking.

A tiny little idea sprung to his mind. A way to occupy his mind while he waited. A deliberate smile spread across his face, his face a representation of wicked and childish glee.

He took his usual jacket from on top of his seat and walked to leave the office when his eye caught on the head decorated at the center of the room. He stared serenely at it before letting a smirk creep onto his lips.

Miracles...

He'd heard humans talk about it all the time: medical miracles, will of humans, rumors of unseen things and unproven hypothesis and theories. He was only human to want the knowledge to fill him up. He was a true slave to human being's unidentified will and the things that were unknown in every sense.

Like the headless rider.

Like Celty.

He couldn't fathom the reason why Celty remained on walking, moving and breathing when her brain was cut-off from her whole body. The brain was not something you could will away from your body. You cannot be alive. Yet, there she was.

He closed his eyes as something unpleasant flashed at the back of his mind and had to conclude that he really must be tired to be thinking about that man willingly thrice today.

That man with his brown-liquid eyes and his dyed blond hair and that aggressive air about him. He could not find any logic in the tingle in the back of his spine whenever he thought about Shizuo Heiwajima. He'd like to think and show that he was unaffected. That there was nothing bothering him about the man but, that would be a lie.

"Damn it, Shizu-chan." He said, running a harsh caress atop his head as the almost overwhelming and unwanted feelings thumped within him, making him shiver in what he could only name as yearning. Whenever he thought of that man, certain unpleasant responses would make their presence known, but they were quickly pushed aside if he was concentrating on the bigger plan rather than these tiny distracting moments of weakness.

But today, after getting his hands on what he really wanted, all that he was meant to do was sit around and be as patient as possible. The problems and conflicts would unwind themselves and when it was time to shoot, he would with his very best capabilities shoot for the kill.

But…

Like he had decided previously, today wasn't the day for actions. Today was the day for patience.

With a sigh that was too uncharacteristic on Izaya, he left his office and entered the town.