What's this, another story? I'm trying to kill myself, I know. I thought long and hard because I really wanted to write a Durarara fanfic about Izaya and Masaomi that actually has a plot. I hope you guys like!

Author: Ongaku
Masaomi is moved to another country for his job, thinking he is going to get away from his life in Ikebukuro. Unfortunately there is one man he can't ever seem to escape from no matter where he goes.
I do not own Durarara or its characters, but this story line is mine. xD

Desolation – Chapter 01

"So, I hear you are getting transferred to America at the end of the week," a young man in his early twenties said to his co-worker while they were waiting for the printer to finish.

"You heard correct," his reply didn't hold much enthusiasm as he continued to just stare at the printer.

"What made them chose you?"

The printer finally finished what the other young man was waiting for so he gathered up all the papers and got ready to make copies. "They didn't choose me, I asked to go."

"Why would you do that? Have you always wanted to live in America or something?"

It was obvious the young man was too curious for his own good.

When his co-worker didn't respond right away he tried to get his attention.


Masaomi clicked the button on the copier and then turned to look at the man asking him questions. It was one thing he couldn't stand about the guy. He just didn't know when to stop talking.

"I needed to get out of this place, too many bad memories."

"Oh!" The other man's face looked full of shame. "I'm so sorry. I had forgotten about all your troubles with your fiancée."

Masaomi smirked to himself. 'So everyone knows. That figures.'

"It's not just that. I need to get out and move on." Masaomi turned back to the copier when he heard the machine finish and gathered up his papers.

"That makes sense. Well I hope you do well in America then. You will be greatly missed here."

'Doubt it.' Masaomi suppressed a cold laugh at the thought. "Thanks, well I better get back to work. Talk to you later."

"Yeah, see ya."

In reality, Masaomi was not going straight back to his desk to work. His desk was more of a front to hide the fact that his real job was to try and keep other businesses from stepping on their turf, which meant some of the things he did were not very legal and not something you would talk about in everyday conversation.

When he had first started this job, he thought he was going to be a regular paper pusher. Doing mundane work in a cubical would have been fine with him as long as he had a job to help support himself and his fiancée without having to rely on a certain information broker anymore.

Things just never go as planned, and he ended up getting involved with all the wrong people again. His actions got the attention of the higher ups and it resulted in them thinking he would be much more suited for their dirty jobs. At first he was really against it, but over time he got used to it, and even enjoyed the fact that he was getting a lot more money for it. Not to mention he was pretty damn good at it.

However, his fiancée started to get suspicious about what he was doing and that is what caused their split up.

For many years Masaomi worked with his fiancée – Saki – for a man that had made his life miserable on many occasions. Normally, he wouldn't have even thought about working for this man, but because he was the one who paid for all of Saki's medical bills they had to do something to pay him back. That way they wouldn't have to owe him anything.

That man's name was Izaya Orihara, and he took pleasure in making people's lives a living hell. Yet he would claim to love all humans, except for Shizuo - of course - who was the only man Izaya tried to avoid.

Masaomi worked for Izaya from the age of sixteen until the age of twenty. That was when he decided he wanted to marry his first love, Saki. He wanted to pull away from everything that had to do with Izaya. It took some convincing on Saki's part because she still idolized him a bit even after everything he put them through, but as soon as he mentioned marriage she finally agreed to it.

The first two years went well. He was working a normal nine-to-five job, making enough for them to live on and still continue to pay off their bills to Izaya. Then his job changed and he started to have to do night shifts. Saki didn't like this much, and started to complain. When she asked him about his shifts he would tell her he couldn't talk about it, which made her suspicious about him being unfaithful.

He couldn't really blame her, they went through a lot and he was a very flirty and animated guy. However, at the time, when she was confronting him about it all he could do was get mad. When he finally snapped and told her he was doing the dirty jobs of the company, instead of being happy that he wasn't cheating on her, she said the words that ended their relationship for good.

"This is why we never should have stopped working for Izaya."

It always came back to him. No matter what happened, she could never just let him go. It wasn't until that point that he noticed just how much that was weighing him down and he just wasn't happy. So he told her that perhaps they shouldn't get married and they should go their separate ways.

She started to cry, but didn't really fight it. He never really understood her; he wasn't even sure if she ever truly loved him after all this time.

Now, at the age of twenty-three, Masaomi had no fiancée, and no close friends. He had lost all of them when he chose to be with Saki. At times he would bump into Mikado and Anri but they were in their own little world these days, so he didn't feel like he could really be friends with them anymore. Besides, he didn't want to intrude on their lovey-dovey atmosphere when he was so dumpy.

So when he learned that his current company was going to open up another location in America, he had to jump on it because it was exactly what he needed to be able to escape. He was a little nervous about it because it would be a completely new place with different customs and such, but he was pretty sure all the challenges would keep him busy, and clear of any thoughts about Saki.

At least he could say there was one good thing about working for Izaya over the years. He had forced him to learn English. It was a good way for him and Saki to spy on certain people in the past. He would probably be a little rusty, but he was confident that he would pick it all back up once he was forced to use it again. He was surprisingly a fast learner when it came to English since it was his favorite subject in school.

Tonight he was going to have to go home and start packing. Perhaps he would play some loud music to make it more enjoyable. That was something he always did these days, now that he was alone. The silence was too much for him to take.

The states were far different from what he was expecting. It couldn't be helped since his thoughts about the place were based on movies. Still, he at least thought he would be living in some huge city up north.

Instead the company was stationed in Dallas, Texas.

Right away he spotted things that screamed he was in Texas, but by the way the movies depicted Texas, he was expecting to see a lot more cowboys and stuff. It was strangely up to speed with the fashion, and not everyone had a very thick accent. Well, of course to him everyone had an accent.

Still, the change was huge compared to living in Ikebukuro.

The biggest change was the food. He was used to eating fast food where he lived, but even the same chain restaurants he found in America served food completely different than back home. It was a shock to the system and he even got sick a few times until he adjusted.

His housing was much better, and much cheaper as well. He used to live in an apartment with Saki, barely enough room for the two of them and the cost was crazy. However, here he was living in a place that was much too big for just one person, and paying just about the same amount. It was amazing how that goes. He had asked his co-workers if every place in the states was like that, but to his surprise they told him it was much more expensive to live up north.

Right away his boss gave him many tasks to do. It was a good thing, because it kept him from worrying too much about adjusting. When he wasn't working he spent his time at the bars, learning to talk better without confusing people.

At first his accent was so thick a lot of people gave him strange looks and some people told him he didn't even sound like he was speaking English. He got tired of having to repeat himself so he worked on getting rid of his accent by talking to many different strangers, as well as renting CDs and movies on how to help speak the language better.

He picked up on it a lot faster than he expected and to the surprise of many others around him. Because he spent so much time at the bar/diner down the street from his house he kind of picked up some friends. No one he would actually hang out with outside of the place, but people he could talk about every day life with and not judge him. It was kind of nice.

Before he knew it four months had just flown by and he could have sworn he had always been an American. Of course, when he got home he would be Japanese. It was something he told himself he needed to do, so he wouldn't forget who he was. If he invited anyone to his home they would be confused by how Japanese he tried to make it seem.

He didn't decorate it much; he only needed the bare necessities. He didn't have pictures hanging up around the house, or any house warming items. It was a little bit cold, except for some minor touches made to make it feel like home. Still, if anyone else saw it they would probably think he just moved in by how empty it looked.

It didn't matter though. He was never going to invite someone to his house anyway.

Masaomi was on the hunt. He was tired of always sleeping alone so this time he was going to find someone to have a one night stand with.

He had never really done it before. He always joked around, especially in the past when he was younger. He was quite the little skirt chaser, but to actually do it and mean to sleep with them? Well, that was a different story.

He was a young man though, who needed to get his rocks off every now and then. Masturbation could only take him so far.

The club he was in was very loud and smelled of smoke. It was enough to make him gag; he knew he would be stinking after he left, and that his mouth would have a funky taste from all the smoke. Still, he was determined to not leave until he found someone.

He looked around hungrily. The women were a lot different from what he was used to in Japan, but after spending months in America he was starting to get a lot more used to them. The only problem was that a lot of them tended to be taller than him. He was glad that he was actually considered a taller Asian, being five feet eight inches in height. He was also a bit taller even when he was younger because he was 170cm – or according to American standards he was about five feet seven inches. Thankfully he grew three more centimeters before finally stopping.

He walked up to the upper level of the club which was more a bar than a dance floor, so the music was not too loud. This suited his tastes more, as it would be too hard to try and pick someone up when he had to yell over blasting music.

Right away he spotted a pretty blonde who was sitting alone. He sauntered his way over trying to not seem like a total creep. He had to be sure she wasn't actually with someone and he was just gone to get drinks. He may be a pig for wanting to have a one night stand at the moment, but he was no home wrecker and the last thing he wanted to do was get in a fight.

"Hello pretty lady," he smiled politely and took a seat next to her.

She gave him a look over and smiled back. "Hello."

He took that to be a good sign, so he tried to continue the conversation.

What he didn't realize was that there was someone else who noticed him as well - a dark haired beauty, sitting in a chair not too far away. She had noticed him as soon as he walked in and thought he would make an interesting watch. He looked out of place and it intrigued her.

"So what's a pretty lady like you doing sitting all alone?"

Masaomi and the young blonde continued to have a polite conversation, but Masaomi was starting to get antsy. She seemed interested at first but now she wasn't really biting. He had no idea how to go about the next step. Perhaps she wasn't there to pick a guy up.

"Well, I'm sorry but I really should be going now. It was nice to meet you."

'Huh? Wait, already?' Masaomi didn't know what to do so he just waved. "Yes, same to you." He felt like such a moron.

After she left Masaomi sat in the chair and held his head down. Perhaps he really wasn't meant to do this.

He felt a soft touch on his shoulder. Thinking it was the young blonde coming back he got excited, but when he turned around it was someone completely new.

She was very pretty herself, but she seemed different.

"That was rather pathetic you know."

Her first words cut like a knife. Did she see the whole thing?

"That's not funny." His mood was starting to get sour. He didn't need a complete stranger telling him he was a loser.

Instead of just getting the hint and leaving she took the seat next to him much to his annoyance. "You're not an American, are you?"

"Are you going to make fun of my accent now? Don't you have anything better to do?"

He looked her in the face, expecting her expression to turn into anger but all she did was smile.

"Not at all- I find it very… how should I put it? Endearing."

He felt a little shocked. It was the first time someone actually said something like that about it.

"Just what is your game?"

Her smile seemed to get even brighter.

"My game? I'm so glad you asked!" She got closer to Masaomi's face and then whispered in his ear, "My game is the same as yours."

She backed away slowly, with a little more of a serious expression on her face. Masaomi couldn't believe how bold she was being. Is that how it was suppose to work? Well, maybe not the same for a man cause then he might end up getting slapped, or worse.

"Though I have to say, I am a little offended that you went after such an air-headed tart first, and then when I came over, you didn't even put on your silly airs."

Masaomi didn't know what to say. It was a first for him. He was the skirt chaser, not the one being chased! Still, he was a little bit intrigued.

"Come with me." The nameless woman stood up and grabbed him by the hand. Masaomi said nothing as she led him out of the club and down an alley. He prayed she wasn't trying to set him up to being mugged or something. He wasn't worried about it because he could fight them off easily, but he just didn't want the hassle, not tonight. His job gave him plenty of fights to deal with.

She wasn't though; in fact she seemed to be taking him to an apartment. Maybe hers, maybe a temporary one for just this occasion, he wasn't completely sure.

Once they were inside Masaomi took a look around. No, it looked like she lived here. "Is this a good idea, bringing a stranger into your home?"

"Why, are you going to do something bad to me? I'm actually kind of hoping you do."

Masaomi turned his head to the side. This woman was a little bit too much for him. "That's not what I meant."

She laughed, "Don't worry your pretty little head. I know what I'm doing. I have done this a number of times."

"Oh." That was all he could say.

Before he could even think of anything else she was on him like white on rice. It was intense, he couldn't even protest a bit. He would have almost called this rape if it wasn't for the fact that he wanted it as well. Wanting to gain a little more control, he pushed her towards the bed.

She let him do as he pleased, their moans echoing against the bare walls and the sweat forming on their body from the heat of the night.

The sex was rough, and anything but tender. Not what he was used to from the times he slept with Saki.

Nothing mattered to Masaomi at the moment. The pleasure was all he wanted to focus on, even though he knew it would make him feel rather empty later.

After the big finale they both collapsed on the bed, exhausted.

Masaomi stared at the ceiling wondering what he was supposed to do now. He didn't want to just leave in case that was wrong, but just leaving while she was asleep seemed even worse.

A familiar stench filled his nose so he turned to see that she had lit a cigarette. She handed him one but he politely refused.

"This is a first for you, isn't it?" she said quietly between her puffs of smoke.

Masaomi laughed lightly. "You could tell?" It was meant to be taken as sarcasm.

"Don't get me wrong, you were actually pretty good. Not the best I have had but definitely right up at the top."

Masaomi rolled his eyes. "Thanks, I guess."


This surprised him. After being so cold and blunt with all her words, to hear an apology out of the blue was really strange.

"Why are you sorry?"

She took another long puff of her smoke and blew it in the opposite direction from where he lay. "Well, I tend to just say things without thinking them through. It's a bad quirk of mine which keeps me from ever having a serious relationship."

Masaomi was starting to feel a little bad now. She was just another hurt woman, not all the horrible things he was thinking about her. She just put on a stronger front than most. Sadly, he didn't know what to say to her at such a confession.

"Oh, but don't worry. I'm not letting this out on you because I expect something from you. I'm not your type."

'Huh?' Now Masaomi was confused, and a little offended.

"You recently got out of a serious relationship didn't you?"

Masaomi now sat up to look at her seriously. "How do you know that?"

She just smiled at him and put out her cigarette. "It's not all that hard to guess when I could see you struggling to not say her name."

Masaomi thought back to it, but couldn't remember even thinking about Saki, except for once, but not in a way she was thinking. Did he really repress trying to say her name out loud? He really couldn't be sure.

"I don't remember trying to hold anything back."

She sat up next to him as well and placed her hand on his head and patted it gently. "Don't worry, most people wouldn't notice. I'm just a rare kind of girl."

"I can see that," he said with a bit of a chip on his shoulder.

"There I go again! Saying things without thinking it through," she lay back down. "Look, don't take anything I have to say to heart. I'm just thinking out loud."

Masaomi just stared at her. She really was a beautiful woman, and so different from what he was used to. Especially when compared to Anri and Saki.

"That doesn't really explain why you think you're not my type."

The room was silent for a little while after that. "Look, I shouldn't probably be saying this because it will only make you angry, so just drop it."

"No, don't worry; I can take it." Masaomi was dying to know what she thought of him.

"Fine, you asked for it, remember that." She took out another cigarette and began to light it. "You seem like the type of guy who needs someone to take care of them and not the other way around."

Masaomi gave her a strange look, not fully understanding what she meant.

"What I mean is, you aren't the type to try and take care of a woman."

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?" Masaomi tried not to sound too angry.

"Well, let me guess. Your last relationship broke off because it all fell through when you were trying to work a regular job and make ends meet?"

Masaomi nodded his head. He really wanted to know where she was going with this.

"I'm not saying that makes you a bad guy. Just that you need someone who can take care of you?"

"Are you trying to say I'm like the girl of the relationship?" At this point Masaomi just didn't care about being rude.

"Not exactly. This is really hard to explain; I'm sorry if I'm not making any sense. I guess I just mean you aren't suited to be the prince, or the hero for the girl. You need someone who isn't a damsel in distress." She took a puff of her lighted cigarette and Masaomi kind of gagged.

"You really shouldn't be smoking so many of those. It's going to be the death of you."

She laughed and set the thing down. "You are really sweet, you know that?"

"Whatever. You're really crazy, you know that?"

She sat back up and stretched. "Yup, I'm well aware."

Masaomi was about to say more when he heard his cell phone go off. "Damn it," he cursed under his breath.

"Excuse me for a second," he got off the bed and reached for his phone, which was in his pants pockets lying on the floor. "This is Kida."

The woman watched as he quietly talked on the phone, his facial expression getting really serious. He was almost a completely different person, and it was a bit scary.

Once he hung up he turned back to her and frowned. "I'm sorry, but that was my job and I really must be going."

"It's fine, it's not like you have any obligations to me. We won't even be seeing each other again after this."

He gave her a funny look but she didn't ask. He started to put his clothes back on and she watched with no discretion. However, he didn't seem to mind because he never once looked back at her.

He walked over to her desk and scribbled something down on a notepad she left out to take messages with. Then he headed toward the door and stopped. "What is your name?"

She smiled.


Then he was out the door without as much as a goodbye.

Curious to see what he had written down, she walked over to the desk with the bed sheet wrapped around her body.

It was a bunch of numbers. He really was a sweet guy. Too bad she was never going to call him. She grabbed the piece of paper and crumbled it up. "You need someone completely different from me."

Then she reached for her own phone and made a very important phone call.

"So, who is this guy that I have to deal with?" Masaomi took a seat on the leather chair in his boss's office. The call he received told him that there was some new and dangerous guy running around the streets that "didn't make him happy". The boss needed someone to keep a close eye on him.

"This is no simple matter. It won't be your typical blackmail run."

Masaomi smirked. "I kind of already figured that much with how quickly you wanted me here."

He watched as his boss's face went from annoyed to business. It was always an interesting thing to see to say the least. It was no wonder he was so good at running his business.

"I'm really glad we brought you here with us. I'm not sure who we could get to help us with this guy."

"Now I'm really interested. Just who is this guy?"

"He is conniving, not you're everyday guy. He is smart and knows what he wants and how to get it. He is a real danger to our business, mostly our underground business."

Masaomi raised an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you want someone like me on it then."

His boss walked over to him with a huge folder in his hand. "Well you see, he's Japanese, so we figured it would be the easiest for you."

Masaomi took the folder and his eyes widened. The thing was thick, full of many notes and things on the man.

"I want to you read over that file carefully. This is not something to be taken lightly. When you are done reading it over, come back here and I will tell you what I want you to do."

Masaomi opened of the file and his blood froze like ice. He couldn't believe what he was staring at- the messy black hair, those piercing red-brown eyes, that all-knowing smile. He closed the folder and began to laugh like crazy.

He just couldn't get away from him. It was his fate in life to always be tortured by him.

His boss stared at him as if he had just grown another head.


He couldn't help it. The laughter just wouldn't stop. It was the laughter from the irony of it all, laughter from his bad luck, and the laughter that he just couldn't care anymore, even though he had mostly moved to the states to get away from this man.

"I don't need to read the file." He took a deep breath to try and calm down.

"What's going on?"

Masaomi's face turned stern and his eyes hardened. His boss backed up a few inches because of the aura being given off.

"I already know this man, and I know how to deal with him."

To Be Continued.