Amapolchen

 It was another beautiful Friday afternoon in Ikebukuro that day. Somewhere in the middle of the ever-present bustling streets, unusually neat black tufts of hair and the peculiar small smile played on a certain man's lips stood out. He took long strides, humming a bizarre tune under his breath as he easily weaved through the growing crowd. Different from his usual aimless wanderings around Ikebukuro, Izaya had a destination set in mind today. The teasings, the tauntings, the chasings, the cell phone-stomping…there would be none of it today. …Well, at least it could wait until later. He had things to do today. Yes, something that