After leaving the sushi restaurant, the tall African man disguised as a chef was still handing out flyers.
Every ti soone passed by, he greeted them with an overly familiar "Long ti no see!" It made Sakura giggle so much that her stomach started to hurt.
"Hey, little brother, would you like to join this fun chatroom?"
As they were strolling down the shopping street outside the sushi restaurant, a lighthearted voice called out from behind them.
Turning around, they saw a man dressed in an out-of-season fur-collared coat, with black hair.
"Do we know each other?" Kyousuke asked, raising an eyebrow. Were people in Ikebukuro this forward?
"Let introduce myself. I'm Orihara Izaya."
"I run an information shop."
"If you have any questions about Shinjuku or Ikebukuro, co to ," the man said, making a dramatic gesture as he handed Kyousuke a business card.
Kyousuke casually took the card, and Sakura leaned in to take a look as well.
The white card was simple, with three lines of text: "Orihara Izaya, Information Broker, Phone: 83709287"
"So, what's this about?" Kyousuke asked while fiddling with the card.
The man's strange, out-of-season outfit, his claim to be an information broker, and the air of unpredictability around him made Kyousuke instinctively want to walk away.
But he didn't want to seem rude, so he asked anyway.
Sakura, sensing Kyousuke's discomfort, stayed quietly behind him, holding his hand.
"Well, one reason is business expansion, and the other is to invite you to a fun chatroom," Orihara Izaya said, reaching into his coat and pulling out another card, which he handed to Kyousuke.
"Dollars?" The card said, followed by a URL.
Upon seeing the word "dollars," Kyousuke's interest piqued.
A place to make money? This might be worth checking out.
"Don't misunderstand. This isn't the 'dollars' like Arican currency. It's part of the unique borrowing culture here in Japan," Izaya explained.
"Ah, well, I'm not interested," Kyousuke said, ready to hand the card back.
Before he could, a loud roar interrupted them.
"Oi~!!" The voice was filled with aggression, and a large tal trash can ca flying towards them.
Kyousuke quickly pulled Sakura behind him and jumped to the side.
Although they weren't the targets, Izaya was too close, and Kyousuke didn't want to risk hitting Sakura.
Izaya, however, didn't have such quick reflexes and was hit squarely by the trash can.
Kyousuke glanced at the trash can—it was solid tal, probably over 30kg.
Only then did he take a mont to see who had thrown it.
"Hey, isn't that the uniform of a waiter?" Sakura asked, curious.
The man walking over was massive, almost 1.9 ters tall, with golden hair and wearing sunglasses even at night.
His white shirt, black vest, and black slacks made him look like a waiter from a fancy restaurant. He even had a black bow tie on.
"Yeah, I guess it's normal for waiters to have strength too, considering black and white people can be sushi masters," Kyousuke said, sowhat sarcastically.
The man approached Izaya and snarled, "Didn't I tell you not to co back to Ikebukuro, Orihara Izaya?"
Izaya, after being crushed by the trash can, stood up and grinned, despite the pain.
"Oh? But I heard you were working in the west side now, Heiwajima Shizuo."
"Heiwajima?" Both Kyousuke and Sakura exchanged a glance, and both chuckled, holding each other's hands tightly.
Hearing their laughter, the man—who was called Shizuo—frowned, veins bulging from his forehead.
But instead of directing his anger at them, he chose to focus it all on Izaya.
"I was fired, and I told you not to call that," he said, clearly irritated.
Sakura raised her fist and clapped it into her other hand as if understanding. "Ah, so your na is Heiwajima Shizuo, right?"
"But Kyousuke, he doesn't seem very peaceful or calm, does he?" Sakura whispered in Kyousuke's ear.
Kyousuke, not looking overly concerned, gently nudged Sakura away, his gaze never leaving the action.
"Well, that na is probably a sign of his parents' expectations. You see, his dad's surna is Heiwajima."
"Oi, you two! Stop ssing around!" Shizuo suddenly shouted, his patience running thin.
"Sorry, sorry," Sakura imdiately bowed, and Kyousuke offered a polite smile.
"Ugh, Shizuo, you're still mad about pinning the bla on you, huh?" Orihara Izaya teased with his usual smirk, despite the obvious pain.
"I'm not mad, I just want to beat you up," Shizuo growled, and with an almost frightening motion, he grabbed a road sign and yanked it from the ground, pulling up the cent below it.
"Wait, is this even possible for a human?" Sakura exclaid, her eyes wide in shock.
Kyousuke, more thoughtful, watched carefully. "So, I guess I won't need to carry a bamboo sword around anymore."
The road sign—a tal pole with a street na sign—wasn't sothing you'd normally think to use as a weapon, but given Shizuo's imnse strength, he made it look easy.
Shizuo hurled the sign like a javelin toward Orihara Izaya, but Izaya easily dodged.
Not done yet, Shizuo picked up a nearby vending machine and threw it at Izaya.
"Tsk, the people of Ikebukuro sure are lucky," Kyousuke muttered as he turned to Sakura.
"Let's go, Sakura. We should leave before things get worse."
Pulling Sakura's hand, they walked away from the scene, heading toward where he had parked his motorcycle.
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