herculean (drrr x f!reader) - chapter 24
chapter 24 - ashes to ashes
synopsis: you continue to spiral as more and more of the facade crumbles.
word count: 2,400
warnings: n/a
"are you satisfied with an average life?
do i need to lie to make my way in life?
are you satisfied with an easy ride?
once you cross the line will you be satisfied?,,
are you satisfied? - marina
You don’t remember when you had dropped to the ground, nor do you remember the tears that are blurring your vision. Your mind and eyes can’t focus on anything, simply swimming in the whirlpool of confusion, emotion, and energy. The sound of someone’s screaming cuts through the muddle. Yours. Your screaming. Screaming, sobbing, drooling, snotting.
Shock at the revelation. Denial that you would do such a thing. Fear of your own capabilities. Horror at the implications of it all.
Five years of depression. Even more years of self-hate. Hopeless desire to simply be seen. Deep-seated fury gone unhinged.
Your heart is caught in a battle, split between two dispositions. An unassuming young woman. A bloodlust driven murderer. Two different people--they are the same person.
They are you.
“(Y/N)!” The voice is muffled by your own, so much so that you barely notice it. Hands grasp your shoulders, pulling you from your stupor sooner than you’d prefer. You jerk away on instinct, not bothering to catch yourself as you fall onto your side.
“Fuck…” Now that it’s closer, the voice is more discernable to you. You spare a moment to force your eyes open. Shizuo.
The sight of blonde hair and brown eyes is usually a comfort to you. It is a comfort to you. But mixed in with that comfort is more fear. Not fear of him, no--fear of yourself. You’re on your feet much too quickly. Your hand shoots up to lean against a wall, the other warding off Shizuo’s attempts to help. You choke down your sobs, attempting in vain to steady your breathing.
“What happened? Did that damn flea do something to you?” His voice raises in volume but it can’t set you on edge any more than you already are. Izaya...
Where is Izaya?
Said flea is nowhere to be found. You don’t remember when or how he left, or if Shizuo saw him. Your voice is not available for use at the moment, simply crackling out when you try to respond.
“Shit...j-just don’t speak, dammit, I…” Shizuo is clearly floundering for something to say or do. He’s not used to comforting, that much was clear. The evident loss in his temper certainly doesn’t make it any easier. He pats himself down before finally landing on his breast pocket. Pulling out his pocket square, he offers it to you.
You silently accept it, cleaning yourself up to the best of your ability. Amidst all of the commotion, you still find it in yourself to be embarrassed at him seeing you like this. “Thanks,” you croak, hesitant to give the cloth back to him. He gestures for you to keep it, to which you respond by tucking it in your pocket. The two of you stand there, avoiding each other’s gaze. He wants to ask what happened--you hope that he doesn’t. Your eyes pick up the twitch in his lips as they fix to form words. Panicking, you slip past him, making your way out of the alley.
“We should go,” you murmur, heart leaping at the look of confusion on his face. You don’t know where you’ll walk, but maybe if you walk briskly enough, he’ll be too focused on keeping up to ask more questions. You spare a glance over your shoulder. The sight of him helplessly following you made you feel bad, but not bad enough to slow down.
Following the sounds of the crowd, you’re able to relocate the center of the clamor. The numerous men that had been sunken into the ground are now restrained. You didn’t need any closer inspection to know that Celty had finished her job. However, you were perplexed to find that the woman was nowhere in sight. You attempt to wade through the masses, silently hoping that Shizuo will eventually lose track of you. All you wanted was to be alone, right now.
Your wishes have yet to be answered, as Mikado and Anri suddenly appear in your path. They spot you almost immediately, quickly approaching you. A quick check behind you reveals Shizuo in hot pursuit. You’re closed in.
“(Y/N)! Did you see all that?” Mikado asks, his head darting between you and the group of thugs bundled together.
“I wasn’t there for it all, but I bet I can guess what happened.” You force a smile and a laugh, suddenly becoming hyperaware of the fresh sting in your eyes. Ducking your head and avoiding their gaze, you attempt to hide what an obvious mess you are. To your displeasure, you narrowly catch the worried furrow in their brows. Shizuo is standing there. You don’t know how close he is, but you feel like it’s too close. “Anyways, I should really be going now--Renji isn’t gonna feed herself!” As you back away hastily, your eyes catch Anri’s. There’s a concern, a sensitivity in them that makes your heart clench. Shizuo’s too.
“W-wait, you don’t need someone to walk you--”
“No.” Your voice is breathless. A pressure is building in your chest that makes it harder for you to mince words. You’re eager to turn away from them, spinning on your heels in preparation to haul ass in the other direction. In your movements, you notice a growing shadow overtaking you.
“Watch out!”
You can’t decipher whose voice it is, not among all of the conversations occurring simultaneously. Especially not among the panicked screaming. All you can decipher is something above you--something growing in size. Coming closer.
Falling closer.
You remember searching for Izaya and Shizuo, fearful of the destruction they could’ve left in their wake. You remember said destruction; namely the myriad of street signs and stop signs lodged into the sides of buildings. You remember the particularly large movie theatre sign lodged into one of these buildings.
The building right next to you.
It falls as if in slow motion, practically floating downwards. Your eyes trace the intricate patterns, noting how some of the lights still have enough electricity to blink. Your frazzled brain is absorbed in its prettiness. There is muffled yelling, and even shouts of your name. It’s a moment of suspension, almost serene. Finally, a moment of peace.
...before the hunk of metal is quickly plummeting towards you. Voices flood your ears, sharp, clear, and grating. Your arms shoot up on instinct, palms flattening towards the sky. Paralyzed, or simply not fast enough, you simply stand there awaiting injury-or death. Looking upwards, you are finally face to face with the sign--and suddenly everything is silent.
All you see is darkness. Loss of consciousness. The end.
Quiet muttering. In the distance? No, surrounding you. There’s a tension in your temples. Rigor mortis? No, your eyes are screwed shut.
A cool, textured surface pressed against both of your open palms. A weight beneath your feet, beneath standing legs.
You slowly open your eyes, expecting your vision to be flooded with some sort of blinding light, or no light at all. However, all you see are faces. So many shapes and sizes, familiar and unfamiliar, gaping in awe. Your neck cranes upward, nourishing your eyes with the view of your own two hands.
Upstretched, holding up the metal sign. Carrying it.
It’s full weight is there. It’s heavy--heavy enough to crush you. You can tell it is...but somehow, here you stood, with so many eyes on you. Your breath suddenly constricts as you realize that the gaping faces are, in fact, actual people. Whispers fill the air as they all switch between looking at you and muttering words to their companions.
You stagger backward, unsure of what to do with yourself. In a panic, you throw your hands downward, taking the sign with you. A crash rings out as the metal clatters against the ground. The hushed murmurs erupt into louder chatter. Scanning the crowd, you find the faces of your friends.
Anri and Mikado looked stunned...mortified.
Shizuo’s gaze is obstructed by those stupid sunglasses. You can’t make out anything in that expression, not with his lips pressed into a thin, straight line.
An odd sound from above you meets your ears. Looking up, you see a helicopter in the distance. You can’t make out who’s flying it, but the way it hovers closely over your position in the crowd does not sit right with you.
It felt as though your body was still and moving all at once. Frozen in place, unable to grind a single, simple thought out of your stupefied mind--yet your heart races, sending blood crawling through every inch of your body, centimeters between the surface of your skin.
So, you ran.
Once again, you ran--seems like it’s all you know how to do.
...
Had it not been for the warm summer air, you would have frozen to death. With some sort of twisted optimism, you lamented how the heaving of your chest was a welcome distraction from the uncomfortable sensation of wet clothes sticking to skin. The only light you had to guide you was the moon, and even that wasn’t very helpful as you bobbed and weaved between tall trees.
You had been running for a while--but you can’t say why. Where were you in a rush to go? You couldn’t go home. It was only a matter of time before there were police on your doorstep. Hell, the neighborhood you lived in, it’d be the first place they checked. You were no mastermind or genius, there was no way you could outsmart a detective…
Most of you still sits back in bemusement at what you had done. You look down at your own palms and ponder if it was even these palms that did it. It was as if you sat in the audience and watched from a distance as the girls’ lives were taken. Something searing hot and foreign had washed over you, invading your senses and forcing your hand, before washing away and leaving you in a puddle of horror and regret.
You’re doubled over, choking on air and panicked tears. All you wanted was to curl up in bed, and wake up to your mom sitting beside you. You wanted to feel her palm brush over your cheek again. Your mom, the only person who really believed in you...if only she could see you now. You could picture her soft features contorting in disgust and disappointment. It only made you hiccup harder.
I’m sorry.
Sorry wouldn’t do anything for you now.
I’m so so so so so sorry
...
ERIKA
(Y/N) I just saw the news where are you
ERIKA
It’s gonna be fine okay just tell me where you are
ERIKA
(Y/N) answer my calls
That helicopter makes a lot of sense now. Looks like “Yuuhei Hanejima” had taken to higher ground to continue filming. Of course, when the commotion surrounding you occurred, the cameras must have found it much more interesting. In just half an hour, photos and videos of you from all angles were plastered over the internet. Headlines about an “iron woman”, eyewitness accounts of you threatening passerby with a giant sign, rumors that the one-on-one fight between Shizuo and Izaya was actually a three way fight.
Everything was going to shit. You didn’t think your head could hurt more than it already did...you were wrong.
Lifting your palm in front of your face, you squeeze your fingers shut before opening them again. It felt normal, like any other girl’s hand. Yet when you held that sign, they were capable of so much more.
You’re pulled from your thoughts by the sound of scratching and insistent meowing. Peeking over at your bedroom door, you catch a small shadow and little orange paws poking through the bottom. You roll over so that your back is facing the door. You didn’t want to see anyone right now, not even Renji.
After all, who would let a deranged killer near their loved ones?
Scrolling through your phone, your eyes flit over numerous missed calls and messages. It seemed as though everyone in Ikeubukuro who had your number was trying to contact you. Sighing, you continue to scroll through the new notifications until you’re looking through old ones. Many of your friends have moved to the top of the list due to texting you recently, so there isn’t much else at the bottom of the list.
UNKNOWN (read)Attachment: 1 Image
UNKNOWN (read)Attachment: 1 File
ME
Sorry, I think you may have the wrong number.
UNKNOWN (read)I do not.
ME
I’m sorry, may I ask who this is?
UNKNOWN NUMBER (read)
No.
Your scrolling stops at a thread of messages that had perplexed you so long ago. The number that Izaya claimed to be one of his burner phones. Reading back through the odd exchange, the claim made less sense to you. For him to contact you from a separate number and evade questioning, only to own up to it so quickly in person...it was exceedingly contradictory, even for him.
You open the group photo, immediately finding your father in the lineup…
Wait.
Father?
You jolt up into sitting, heart rate suddenly spiking. The quick movement isn’t good for your head at all, coming with a world-splitting pain that has you whimpering. As the pulsing finally subsides, you come back to your senses.
You were raised in a single-parent household, yes--by your biological mother. Your family was low-income and your mom worked countless night shifts at the hospital to make ends meet.
You’ve never met your father, you do not come from a rich upbringing, and you’re definitely not adopted--so who the fuck is that? How did you even meet him? How did you end up in his care, and why do you not remember? You look back at the photo, eyes boring into the man’s pale, sickly face. A face that, for the past year, you had found great comfort in.
But now, as you stare into the glint in his thin frames, unease overcomes you. Your features tensed visibly, and suddenly your skin was shining with a cold sweat. Your brain may have forgotten, but your body knew--your heart knew.
The shine in his glasses obscuring any humanity in his gaze. His thin lips pressed into a thin, unreadable line--though capable of spreading into a toothy, wicked grimace. Wild, unruly facial hair that grew and grew, only furthering the animosity of his appearance.
No, this man wasn’t comfort.
This man was torture.
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Catharsis
((click here to read on ao3!))
The first thing Izaya notices when he wakes up is that the room is too damn bright. He always remembers to close his curtains, as his hours are all over the place, and blackout curtains are essential for any sleep he might salvage.
The second thing he notices is that he's definitely not in his bed, and he can't remember why he wouldn't be.
“Izaya-kun, easy. You hit your head.”
Well, that explains a few things. Izaya turns to look at Shinra, squinting up at him.
“'S too bright...” he murmurs, and Shinra frowns.
“You say that every time, but the curtains are closed. You want me to get you a sleep mask?”
“Every time?” Izaya asks, closing his eyes and ignoring Shinra's stupid question. He tries to remember what he was doing before, but it's all a blur. “What day is it?”
“It's Tuesday. You've been here for two days, and you have a concussion. I've been monitoring you, so you're fine, but your memory might be hazy for a while.”
Izaya hums, used to injuries by this point. It's not the first time he's woken in an unfamiliar bed, and it won't be the last. He licks his lips and notices how dry they are.
“Can I have some water?”
“Yeah, and you're probably starving too, huh? You've barely eaten.” Shinra gives Izaya a firm look as he says this, and Izaya blinks up at him, confused. Shinra's face returns to its normal dopey grin quickly. “I'll be right back.”
Izaya is asleep again before Shinra returns.
The next time Izaya wakes, it's to raised voices.
“You keep saying he's fine, but he's not fine! He can't even focus his eyes for a goddamn minute!” Shizuo. Is that Shizuo? Why would Shizuo be at Izaya's bedside, worried for him?
“He has a head injury. Besides, his body is likely catching up on sleep and fluids. He's not in very good shape,” Shinra says, and Izaya feels there's an IV in his arm. He keeps his face smooth, impassive. It won't do him any good to open his eyes to Shizuo's looming presence.
“Bullshit, the flea does constant cardio. He's gotta be in great shape by now,” Shizuo says, and Izaya hears Shinra sigh.
“Just go home, Shizuo-kun. I told you I'd call you when he's awake and lucid. It won't be good for him to wake up to you here. He'll be scared and might run for it, which will make him worse.”
“I'm not gonna do anything to him! I'm just making sure he's alive!”
“I know that, but he won't. And he's confused enough without you adding to it.”
Shizuo makes a grumbling noise, and then there are footsteps leading down the hall before the distinct sound of a door opening and closing.
“Before you ask,” Shinra says, and Izaya knows it's addressed to him, “Shizuo-kun is worried sick about you, and it's only confirming my suspicions that he's smitten with you.”
“Ha,” Izaya mutters, and when he opens his eyes again, he finds it's not as bright as last time. “Why was he here?”
“He's the one that brought you here. He said he was chasing you and you collapsed off a building.”
“Oh, whatever. He probably slammed my head into a wall and then felt guilty about it.”
“It's possible,” Shinra agrees, “but your blood sugar was extremely low at the time, so it added credibility to his story.” Shinra settles into the chair by the bed, and Izaya glares at the ceiling, knowing what's next. “You're going to kill yourself if you don't start taking care of yourself.”
“I'm busy. I was working and then he started chasing me. It was his fault.”
“You always say it's his fault.”
“Well, it always is!” Izaya sits up and glowers at Shinra. “I keep odd hours, you know that. I don't mean to forget to take care of things, it just happens.”
“That excuse was good the first few times, but I'm really starting to think you do it on purpose.”
“What are you, a concerned mother? Either way, you get my business and my money, so it hardly matters.” Izaya looks down at the IV. “Can I take this out? I need to use the bathroom.”
Shinra gives him a long look before reaching down and taking the IV out himself. Izaya tentatively puts his feet on the ground and stands, feeling wobbly as he does so. Wordlessly, Shinra moves closer and offers his shoulder, and Izaya holds on gratefully and allows Shinra to help him down the hallway.
“I'm going to make something to eat,” Shinra says, his voice muffled through the bathroom door.
Izaya doesn't respond. He sits on the toilet, too weak to keep standing, and when he washes his hands afterwards he has to lean on the sink. His reflection is horrible to look at. He's paler than normal, eyes dark underneath, lips dry and chapped. His cheekbones look too sharp. His hair is going everywhere.
Izaya grumbles and reaches into his pocket for his lip balm, but he isn't surprised to find it missing. Shinra always empties the pockets of his patients for safety reasons.
When Izaya opens the door, he's relieved to see Shinra isn't there waiting on him, but it's short lived, as Celty is quickly approaching him, her body language open and relaxed in his presence, which is odd for her. Shinra must have told her to be nice.
“Need a hand?” Celty asks, lifting the PDA. Izaya considers doing something petty, like swatting her away or slapping her PDA to the floor, but he dismisses the idea quickly. He does need help, and being a brat because he's not feeling well won't be beneficial to him.
“Thanks,” he says instead, leaning against her as she helps him to the table and eases him into a chair. She hovers over him, on edge again, and Izaya peers up at her and waits to see what it is she wants from him.
“You gave everyone a good scare.”
“No one's ever cared before when Shizu-chan injured me. Not that I blame anyone. It happens too often to panic every time.” Izaya puts his elbow on the table and rests his chin against his hand.
“Shizuo didn't do anything. He brought you here. He's been worried for you.” Celty fidgets again, and then her fingers are moving rapidly across the screen. “Listen... I think this would be a good time to try and bury the hatchet with Shizuo. Think of it like an extended olive branch. If not for him, you could have died. Isn't that as good a reason as any to make peace?”
Izaya stares at her.
“Well?” she prompts.
“And have you told him about this grand idea of yours?” Izaya asks.
“Yes. He said you're not likely to change, and I agree. But I also think it's worth a shot.”
“If he thinks so badly of me, he should have left me there.” Izaya doesn't bother reading her response, just buries his head in his arms. “I didn't ask for his help. If he hadn't been chasing me, I wouldn't have had to run for my life, and I wouldn't have needed saving. I don't want to talk about him anymore.”
Izaya hears the sound of her stomping her feet, and then heavy footsteps as she marches towards the kitchen. Shinra makes a startled noise, and then he's speaking in a hushed tone Izaya doesn't bother to listen to. He knows what it's about, anyway.
He drifts off again, and the next time he lifts his head, it's to find a bowl in front of him.
“Just some soup,” Shinra says, sitting across from him. Celty sits next to Shinra, her arms folded over her chest, her neck billowing smoke.
“I'm tired,” Izaya mumbles, rubbing his eyes. He barely looks at the soup, but it smells decent enough.
“You need to eat,” Shinra says. “You're going to be tired a while, even more so if you don't give your body energy.”
Sighing, Izaya brings his spoon to his lips. Some kind of potato soup. It's good, and Izaya wonders which of them made this, but he doesn't bother asking.
“Can I go home tonight?” Izaya asks after a few moments. Shinra gives him a patient look.
“That's up to you. Do you think you can take care of yourself?”
“Well, I'm moving around, not passing out, and I'm holding a conversation with you. I'd say that qualifies,” Izaya muses. He lifts the bowl to his lips and drinks the broth, finding it soothing in his throat.
“Let me rephrase,” Shinra says, and his eyes narrow. “Are you going to bother caring for yourself, or should I expect you back here soon?”
Izaya bristles, sets the bowl back on the table. He smooths his features and forces his voice into a neutral tone.
“Even if I intended to walk into traffic, it's not your place to keep me from doing so.”
“Oh, you'd be surprised. Especially with Celty here! She could knock you out for another few days if she had to.”
“Shinra, we've been over this before. I'm not hurting myself. I'm just busy. Stop being such a nag, alright? It's not as if you care anyway.” Izaya sips some water, watches Shinra over the table. “Besides, if Shizu-chan keeps inviting himself over, I'd rather not be here next time he comes back.”
“Eventually, this feud of yours is going to have to end. You could resolve it peacefully, or wait for one of you to kill the other. I think the first option is the best one,” Shinra says.
Izaya stands, wobbles, and has to sit back down immediately. Shinra is still smiling at him.
“Maybe just stay one more night. We can see how you feel tomorrow.”
“I can call a cab. I could even call someone to help me to the car.”
“How? I have your phone.” Shinra tilts his head to the side. “You need to take this seriously. I think one more night, at least.”
“Fine, but at least give me my phone. If I've been here a few days, I need to contact some people.”
***
He waits until about an hour after Shinra and Celty go to bed. He stands and hangs onto the wall, maneuvering himself as quietly as he can. He finds his keys, knives, wallet, and lip balm in a small bowl on Shinra's counter, and he puts them in his coat pocket alongside his phone, where he has been texting back and forth with Namie and a few clients for the past few hours.
He's already arranged for a ride home, and it takes him a while to exit the building, but he manages to do so without falling down. To his surprise, Shiki's car is the one waiting for him, and he composes himself before opening the back door and getting in beside Shiki.
“Izaya. You look rough. Sure you should be leaving?” Shiki asks.
“Of course. Shinra is a busy man. I'm sure someone else needs that spare bed more than I do,” Izaya says. He meets Shiki's gaze and grins. “I'm feeling much better.”
“Maybe you should take a few more days, just in case,” Shiki says.
“The last thing I need is more downtime. Forgive me, Shiki-san, but I'd really like to get back to work and put this behind me.”
Shiki waits a few moments, eyeing Izaya scrupulously. “Fine then. If you're sure.” He signals the driver, and they're off.
***
When Izaya runs into Shizuo again, it's an accident.
Izaya has buried himself in work once more, as he's accustomed to. He has less time to think about anything else when he's busy.
He's leaning against a wall, head buried in his phone when he feels someone looking at him. His eyes meet Shizuo's, who is wearing his sunglasses, but is clearly watching him. Izaya frowns, weighs his options, and decides to just run for it without saying a word to Shizuo.
“Izaya!” Shizuo shouts after him, but Izaya doesn't stop, just runs and runs until his chest aches and he's gasping for breath. He finally finds a small cafe to duck into, and he makes his way to a table in the back, flopping into it and ordering some tea when the waiter comes by.
He busies himself by sipping the tea and continuing to use his phone. He lifts his head at some point and notices it's raining outside. Surely Shizuo has given up the chase by now? He decides to wait just a little longer to be sure, and to give the rain a chance to let up, but of course it only starts coming down harder. Sighing to himself, he pays his bill and puts his hood on, stepping outside into the downpour.
It's a gloomy day, but warm enough. Izaya is at least thankful he isn't cold and wet, as he can't afford to get sick any time soon. He has so much to do, has taken on so many things at once, and it's still not enough to really quiet his mind or exhaust him enough to where he can sleep at night. He's been ignoring Shinra's advice, and Shinra himself, as the doctor has been harassing Izaya ever since he left in the middle of the night. Sometimes Celty will text him as well, but Izaya hasn't responded to her more personal questions and has kept their correspondence strictly professional.
He walks quickly, weaving through the people around him. He needs to get home and sort through the files he's had Namie organize for him and then he needs to give Shiki a call to discuss progress. Maybe at some point he can get some sleep, but undoubtedly Shiki will have another request, and while Izaya knows it can all wait, he also knows eventually he'll run out of steam and he'd like to finish some things up before then.
He's so caught up in his own thoughts that he doesn't notice someone approaching him, but he does jerk away just before Shizuo's hand can close around his wrist. Izaya whirls around, a knife drawn, and he glares up at Shizuo, who is glowering right back at him.
“Why did you run?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya actually laughs in his face.
“Is that a trick question? Do you think I want you to snap me in half?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo's scowl deepens.
“I wasn't going to do anything, and I still won't. Not unless you do something first,” Shizuo says, his eyes on Izaya's knife. He's still wearing the sunglasses, which is ridiculous since it's raining, but Izaya has also seen Shizuo wear them at night, as if they could hide who he is despite the fact he's wearing the same outfit as always.
“I'm busy,” Izaya says. “If you're bothering me for some sort of thank you, you can fuck off. I didn't ask for your help.”
“I wasn't— Hey, fuck you! You didn't deserve being helped at all, flea! I could've left you there to die on your own. That's what you'd have done if our situations were reversed, right?”
“Yes,” Izaya says, smirking as he gazes up into Shizuo's shades, seeing his own reflection in them. “I'd have done more than that. If you fell before me, I'd slit your throat while you were down. I wouldn't hesitate.” Izaya backs away, but keeps facing Shizuo, knows better than to turn from him while Shizuo is focused on him and this close. “You should've let me die.”
Shizuo's teeth are bared, his hands clenched into fists. He takes a few steps forward when Izaya backs away a little more, pursuing Izaya as he always does.
“Yeah? You wouldn't hesitate, huh? Well I'm better than you, and I wasn't gonna attack you while you were down. Celty's been saying some bullshit about using this to try and make things right with you, but I knew you wouldn't change, and I was right. You'll never change.”
“You're right,” Izaya says, and he does turn away then, knowing he's going to have to either attack or run for it once more. He isn't in the shape to be doing either, but he'd rather try to escape than keep facing Shizuo head-on. “Don't flatter yourself, anyway. You didn't save my life. I'd have woken up and called Shinra myself without you.”
“You wouldn't have. There was blood all over. You'd have died if I didn't carry you.”
“I didn't ask for your help!” Izaya snaps, looking back at Shizuo, who is watching him with a strange expression on his face. “If you hadn't been chasing me, I wouldn't have passed out.”
“Why the fuck did you pass out anyway, I-za-ya?” Shizuo asks. Everyone around them is giving them a wide berth, either knowing who they are, or just not wanting to get involved in their shouting match.
“I was tired. I was tired, and I knew you wouldn't stop, so I couldn't stop. I'm not thanking you because it was your fault!”
“Fuck that! You're lucky it was me that was after you and not the same shady ass people as you! And I never asked you to thank me!” Shizuo shouts, and Izaya feels his head pounding in response because this entire exchange is so stupid, and Shizuo's response struck a nerve with him.
“I would've been fine without you. Now let me go.”
Shizuo is watching him carefully, studying his face and his posture. Izaya bristles under it, feeling exposed somehow. Shizuo is an idiot half the time, but sometimes he's so sharp it takes Izaya by surprise, and Izaya isn't in the mood for surprises right now.
“Something's wrong with you,” Shizuo says. “Well. Something more than the usual bat-shit crazy stuff that's wrong with you.”
“I'm busy. Unlike you, I have to do more than punch people for a living.”
“Yeah, you just ruin lives. So what is it? Did you kill someone or something?”
Izaya feels a frigid cold wash over him. His hand feels numb where it grips the knife, and something in Shizuo's expression changes. Unthinkingly, Izaya turns and runs for it, clumsily running into a few people before landing in the path of an oncoming car.
Shizuo's hand snatches him backwards by the hood, and Izaya finds his back held against Shizuo's chest, Shizuo's arms going around him reflexively. The car passes, honking at them, and plenty of eyes are on them now.
“Fuck. You're losing it, flea.”
“Let go of me,” Izaya says, but he doesn't try very hard to pull away. Shizuo's arms drop all the same.
“Shinra said you were exhausted and obviously not caring for yourself. Said it was a constant problem of yours, since he doesn't know how to shut up. All I asked was if you were alive,” Shizuo says, and Izaya is still close to him, though not touching him anymore.
“Shinra is a nosy asshole,” Izaya says.
“He is,” Shizuo agrees.
“So you don't want me to thank you. Why are you following me around then if not to beat my face in or yank gratitude out of me?”
“Well, I kind of saved your life and all,” Shizuo says, and Izaya turns to face him wearily. “So now it kind of feels like my responsibility to make sure you stay alive.”
“I don't need your help. I can take care of myself.”
“Can you?” Shizuo asks, and doesn't wait for a response. He walks forward, bumping Izaya's shoulder with his as he passes. “Let me walk you home. I'd like to sleep tonight, and I won't if I think you're off in a ditch somewhere.”
“Why do you care?” Izaya mutters, following anyway. He does need to get home, and he can hardly control what Shizuo does.
“I guess because you don't.” Izaya watches Shizuo's back curiously, entranced by him. He never can tell what Shizuo is going to do next. He hates and admires that about Shizuo.
“I'm not trying to off myself, Shizu-chan, regardless of what Shinra has said.”
“Maybe not actively. It's still dangerous, you know? Not caring about yourself one way or the other. It just makes things worse later on.”
“Right. I guess you're an expert on being reckless,” Izaya says.
“It's not like you have the market cornered.”
They make decent time. Not many people are walking around anymore since the rain isn't getting any lighter, and they're both soaked to the bone by the time they're in front of Izaya's building. Izaya looks over at Shizuo, sighs, and edges past him.
“Do you want some tea?” he asks, and he doesn't have to look back to know Shizuo is following him.
Namie is still sorting through things when they walk through the door of Izaya's apartment. She gives them both a wilting look, her eyes lingering on Shizuo, and then she gives Izaya an accusing stare.
“You're late,” she says.
“I was waiting for the rain to stop. Didn't want to get wet,” Izaya says, and Shizuo snorts.
“Yeah, you did a great job staying dry,” Namie says. “If you get sick, I'm not going to take care of you.”
“You will if I complain enough to you. You'll be here anyway,” Izaya points out. “You can go now. Try not to curse anyone on your way home.” She rolls her eyes at him and gathers her things quickly, pulling an umbrella from her purse and giving Izaya a pointed look as she does so.
When she's gone, Shizuo turns to him.
“Who was that?”
“My secretary. She has a way about her, doesn't she? Charming woman.” Izaya goes to the bathroom and gets two towels, tosses one to Shizuo when he emerges. “I'm going to get some dry clothes.”
Shizuo doesn't respond, and Izaya knows it's because the beast is feeling just as weird about all this as he is. The two of them know each other pretty well, but have never actually spoken before without fighting either physically or verbally. Izaya is surprised they managed to get through high school together, but Izaya also rarely went to class.
He tugs on some more comfortable clothes before returning to the living room, where Shizuo is still standing, his head looking around like he's trying to take in all the sights of Izaya's apartment.
“I bet I could find you something to wear,” Izaya says, and Shizuo turns to him. “I have some sweatpants that are too big for me.”
“No, it's fine. I should be going anyway. No point in putting on dry clothes when it's still pouring rain,” Shizuo says.
“You don't want some tea?”
Shizuo pauses, and then he shakes his head.
“No, I need to go. I just wanted to make sure you got home okay.”
Izaya snorts and pads into the kitchen to make tea for himself. He hears the door open and close, and then he leans on the counter wearily, exhaling a breath he didn't realize he was holding. He doesn't blame Shizuo for not staying— Izaya wouldn't have either, if their situations were reversed. He doesn't know why he offered in the first place.
***
The next time he sees Shizuo is outside Shinra's building.
Izaya is shuffling by, on his way to Shiki for a briefing on his newest assignment. Shiki offered to come to him, but Izaya refused, citing he needed to get out of his apartment for a while. He's been holed up for days, working diligently on different things. He hasn't been to any of his chat-rooms for a while. Some of them have been messaging him privately, asking if he's okay, but Izaya doesn't bother responding.
It's a nice evening. The sun is dipping below the tops of the buildings, illuminating everything in an orange haze as the skies darken with nightfall. Izaya always enjoys seeing the neon lights of the city shine and outline everyone bustling around in their colors. He glances up at Shinra's building and is grateful he has an excuse for not stopping by. Shinra has still been messaging him and leaving voicemails. He's been threatening to come by, but Izaya isn't concerned about it. He's used to Shinra barging in on him by this point.
He pauses when he sees Shizuo step outside. Shizuo is dressed in casual clothes, and Izaya remembers it's the weekend. It's hard to keep the days in order since he's been so caught up with work. Shizuo stretches, reaches in his pocket and pulls out his cigarettes. He pauses when he sees Izaya.
Izaya considers running for it, but then he would just look guilty. He's really just passing by, and he doesn't think he has the energy to run right now. Shizuo is fast, faster than Izaya gives him credit for. Izaya doesn't think he has it in him to be faster.
Shizuo lights his cigarette and walks towards Izaya, his hands going into the pockets of his slacks.
“Flea,” he says in greeting.
“Shizu-chan,” Izaya returns.
“What are you doing in Ikebukuro?”
Izaya snorts at the question. Usually, Shizuo would be yelling that at him and throwing something by this point. As it is, Shizuo doesn't look mad or even irritated. He looks like he's genuinely asking.
“I've got somewhere to be and I thought it was a nice night for a walk. How about you? Were you seeing Shinra for an injury?” Shizuo doesn't look like he's hurt or sick, but it's also hard to tell with him. Shizuo walked off gunshot wounds once.
“Huh? Oh, no. I was having dinner with them. A lot of people are up there, actually.” Shizuo stiffens after he says this, like he thinks maybe it was cruel to tell Izaya Shinra is having a party and didn't extend an invitation.
“Leaving the party early, Shizu-chan? Maybe you should go back up to your adoring fans.” Izaya turns to leave, ready to get away from this conversation, but of course Shizuo follows him.
“You could go up. Shinra's been babbling about you nonstop, saying you aren't talking to anyone. He'd be glad to see you.”
“He wouldn't. And anyway, I told you already that I'm busy.”
Izaya gets more and more annoyed as Shizuo walks beside him. Shizuo's apartment is the other direction, and Izaya bristles when he thinks that Shizuo might be walking with him out of pity.
“I don't need a babysitter,” Izaya snaps at last, whirling on Shizuo, who blinks at him.
“I'm not babysitting you.”
“Then what do you want?”
Shizuo takes a drag of the cigarette and looks down at Izaya with a scrutinizing expression, like he either doesn't know what to say or how to say it. Izaya withholds a comment about how that's probably commonplace for an imbecile like Shizuo.
“You don't look good,” Shizuo says at last.
“Fantastic. I look bad so you're following me. Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?” Izaya asks, and Shizuo grunts, narrows his eyes.
“You look sick,” Shizuo amends. “You look like you're about to fall over.”
“Well, I'm not. So get away from me and leave me alone.”
Izaya walks faster, his hands curling into fists. It's unusual for Shizuo to get under his skin like this, and Izaya knows he can chalk it up to a lack of food and sleep. His head is pounding, and he just wants to get this stupid meeting out of the way and go home and sleep an entire day if he can. To his chagrin, Shizuo is still behind him. When a hand closes around Izaya's hood, Izaya turns quickly, knife in hand. Shizuo lets go immediately.
“What's wrong with you?” Shizuo spits, and finally he looks angry.
“Lots of things, just like you always thought. I'm the worst person you've ever met and I'm going off to ruin some lives and kill some people.” Izaya backs away, still holding the knife threateningly.
“Izaya—“ Shizuo starts, stepping forward. Izaya throws the knife at Shizuo's foot, stabbing through his shoe and between his toes. Shizuo scoffs and then swipes at Izaya, who already has another knife in hand. “Would you fuckin' quit it? I'm trying to talk to you!”
“Go back to your stupid fucking party, Shizuo,” Izaya says, and when he turns and runs for it, Shizuo doesn't follow him.
***
Afterwards, Izaya packs some things and goes to one of his other apartments. He doesn't want to be barged in on, and he definitely doesn't want to see Shizuo again any time soon. He stays a little over a week, messaging Namie and Shiki and no one else. He avoids his personal phone like the plague, and after about two days and a message from Shizuo of all people, he turns it off, not bothering to read any of the messages.
By the time he's back in Shinjuku, he's feeling worse somehow. Going away usually refreshes him, but he just feels like he's been running from everything, and feeling like the coward he is never fills him with anything but disgust.
He unpacks his things and starts some coffee before he finally turns on his personal phone. Messages flood through one after the other, but it's not like a lot of people are sending him things. It's almost all Shinra, who is sending one word messages at a time to flood and annoy Izaya with notifications. Mairu sent him a message saying they want to see him, which translates to they need money for something. Shizuo sent only one message.
Can I see you?
Izaya stares at it for a few moments before he tosses his phone on the desk, ignoring all the messages. He takes his coffee to the couch and curls up, turning on the TV and accomplishing absolutely nothing.
***
Another week goes by. Finally, Shinra fulfills his threat and barges into the apartment while Izaya is showering.
“Izaya-kun!” Shinra calls. “Ah, are you showering?”
“If you come up here, I'm stabbing you,” Izaya says. Shinra laughs.
“Trust me, I don't want to see you! I'll be down here when you get out.”
Izaya considers locking himself in his room until Shinra leaves, but eventually he gets out of the shower and dresses himself. He towels through his hair and tromps down the stairs, glaring when he sees Shinra sitting at the table.
“I brought Russia Sushi. Simon says he hasn't seen you in a while.”
Izaya's stomach growls. It has been too long.
“I'm sure he's been reveling in the quiet,” Izaya says.
“It's unsettling, actually. Everyone thinks you're plotting something. Well, some people are just saying you died.”
“The city is full of wishful thinkers.” Izaya grabs two bottles of tea from the fridge and pours them over ice before settling at the table with Shinra. “Thanks for the food.”
“You look terrible.”
“Can we start this conversation later? Mealtimes are supposed to be enjoyable.”
Shinra makes a noise of disapproval, but doesn't push it. They eat in silence for a while, but of course Shinra breaks it.
“Have you spoken to Shizuo-kun?”
“Why would I want to speak to that invalid?” Izaya asks.
“It wouldn't kill you to be civil to him. He's got a good heart, and you freaked him out when you fell off that building.”
“He does not have a heart,” Izaya says instead of, I tried being civil to him once, and he hated me on sight. “Don't grace him with basic human anatomy. He's like a jellyfish.”
“Izaya-kun,” Shinra says exasperatedly, “he's trying to bury the hatchet with you. He's tired of fighting. Isn't that good news?”
Izaya doesn't say anything, but his chest clenches. So that's how it is, huh? Shizuo is done with him, done with their feud. If they pass each other, Shizuo will ignore him, go on like Izaya truly is nothing more than piece of trash in the street.
“Izaya-kun?” Shinra asks, and Izaya realizes he's been quiet too long.
“Yes, that's great news. I can finally go on about my business with no interference. Let him know I'm on board with his peace plan and we never have to see each other ever again.”
“Don't be glib,” Shinra says. “You could try being his friend.”
“I don't do well with friends.”
“Lucky for you, Shizuo-kun is way more stubborn than I am. He won't let you withdraw too much. I see now that I waited too long before coming here. You dug yourself into a pit.”
“I don't know what you mean.”
“Izaya,” Shinra says, dropping the niceties. “You can't punish yourself forever for what happened to that kid. It wasn't your fault.”
Izaya chews his ootoro, but suddenly it tastes horrible. He pushes the rest of it away from himself and drinks his tea instead.
“Who told you?” he asks.
“Does it matter? I wish I'd heard it from you.”
“Whoever told you neglected to mention it was my fault.”
“You can't control what people do with the information you give them. He paid you, right?” Shinra asks.
“No, he was in debt. I gave him what he wanted for free. He was eager, but he was an idiot. I didn't think he'd do what he did. I underestimated him.”
“Still,” Shinra continues. “I give medical care to all sorts of terrible people. If I save someone's life, and that person goes out to kill someone later, does that make it my fault?”
“It's different. You're a doctor. You're not supposed to discriminate against anyone, no matter what they do,” Izaya says. “I can control who I do and don't give information to.”
“As refreshing as it is to see your conscience for once, I think you're twisting this into more than it is. You send people into danger all the time. What makes this one so different?”
“He actually died, for one,” Izaya says instead of, “I don't know.”
“I've killed people before, too. I was trying to help, but I've made medical mistakes that cost people their lives. You can't shut yourself down every time something doesn't go your way.”
Izaya doesn't respond because Shinra doesn't get it. He doesn't expect anyone will, and there's more he's unwilling to say. When Shinra realizes he isn't going to get anything else out of Izaya, he sighs and begins prattling on about Celty, and Izaya manages to eat the rest of his sushi.
When Shinra leaves, he pulls Izaya into a tight hug, and Izaya leans into him, closing his eyes.
“Come over soon. We'll have dinner. We can invite other people, too,” Shinra says. Izaya laughs, shaking his head.
“What is it with you and dinner parties?”
“It's what friends do. Now that you and Shizuo-kun aren't fighting, I can invite you both. Also, hey, try to stay on Shiki-san's good side, okay? I hear he had someone who works with him killed recently, and you're always causing trouble.”
When Izaya is alone, he goes to his computer and starts working, shutting everything else out. He tries not to think of who was killed on Shiki's orders, has a pretty good idea already who it was.
***
When he sees Shizuo again, it's Shizuo who spots him first.
Izaya forces himself outside on another walk. Shiki has flat-out refused to give Izaya anything else to do, stating Izaya needs a break, and Izaya has decided not to work on anything else until his head's clear.
He makes his way to the Sunshine 60 building, sneaking past security as he usually does to reach the roof. It's his favorite view and it's quiet, no one else around. He goes to the edge and looks down, thinks of how it would feel to jump, how weightless he'd feel before reaching the ground.
He turns when he hears the door to the roof open behind him. It's Shizuo. Of course it is.
“Why are you up there?” Shizuo asks, freezing. Izaya blinks, not getting it, but then he realizes he is standing on the ledge of the building. He must have climbed up.
“Best view,” Izaya says, shrugging. He hops down and sits with his back facing the edge, enjoying the way Shizuo seems unsettled on his behalf. “Did you come up here to push me?”
“What? No! What kind of shitty joke is that?” Shizuo snaps, moving towards Izaya.
“You could. You could push me and tell everyone I jumped. With the way the rumors are circulating, they'd believe you.”
“Did you come up here to jump?” Shizuo asks, and he looks so concerned that Izaya laughs until his sides hurt and there are tears in his eyes.
Shizuo settles next to him, their arms almost touching, and he lights a cigarette. Izaya turns so he can look back over the city, and they're both quiet for so long that Izaya is almost able to forget Shizuo is there.
“Where have you been lately?” Shizuo asks.
“Around. Home, mostly.”
“I texted you,” Shizuo says, and Izaya can't help but laugh again at the absurdity of it all.
“Shizu-chan, what the hell do you want from me? You wanted me out of your city and then I actually complied and you had the gall to miss me? You're a walking contradiction, but I guess I knew that already from your name and personality.”
“Fuck off. Shinra said—“ he stops himself, and Izaya glares over at him.
“What did Shinra say?”
“He said you're depressed.”
“Well, you know he's an idiot. And didn't anyone teach you it's wrong to gossip?”
“Izaya—“
“I'm not depressed,” Izaya says, louder than he means to. He scoffs and moves away from the ledge they're leaning on, keeping his back to Shizuo.
Shizuo doesn't say, “Of course you're not depressed. I've met you, and you don't have a conscience or feelings.” He doesn't say, “What are you, some kind of wuss?” He doesn't storm after Izaya to punch him. Shizuo stays where he is, says nothing. And when Izaya finally looks back at him, he thinks Shizuo looks a little sad.
This entire thing couldn't get more fucking ridiculous.
“You wanna come to my place?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya decides he stands corrected.
“Why would I want to do that?”
“What else have you got to do? You're already in the city. You might as well.”
“That's the definition of going into the lion's den. Or maybe the belly of the beast is more fitting.”
Shizuo glares at him. “How about you don't be an asshole, and I won't hurt you?”
“I don't always try to be an asshole,” Izaya says, but when Shizuo shoulders past him, Izaya finds himself turning and following Shizuo anyway, too curious for his own good.
They stop at a convenience store for cigarettes and alcohol. Izaya shells out the money for a nicer bottle of sake, ignoring Shizuo's protests. If Shizuo snaps his neck tonight, Izaya wants to be drinking the nicer stuff before he dies. Besides, it might culture Shizuo a bit. Their banter remains light as they make their way to Shizuo's building, passing by plenty of incredulous people who clearly recognize them.
Shizuo's apartment is as charming as it is small. It's clean, and somehow it doesn't reek of smoke. Izaya wonders if Shizuo usually smokes out the window.
Izaya settles on the couch while Shizuo goes to get them cups. He decides he'll have one drink to placate the monster, and then he'll leave. It'll be short and simple.
An hour later, they're completely sloshed, laughing about stupid things like they're actually friends. Izaya's never seen Shizuo like this, completely at ease, especially in his presence. Izaya can't remember the last time he felt so relaxed.
“You ever done this before? Drank with...uh. Someone till you really overdid it?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya giggles when he realizes Shizuo stopped himself from saying 'friend' in case it offended Izaya. It helps distract from the painful memory of the last time he drank too much and someone else was there.
“I got Shinra drunk in high school,” Izaya says instead of the most recent time. He wants to keep this light.
“Oh, fuck. I bet he was obnoxious.”
“He was. He locked himself in my bathroom and cried in the tub. After a while I kind of forgot he was there, and then Mairu yelled at me to get him out so she could shower.”
Shizuo laughs, and they fall back into a companionable silence.
“Why'd you invite me over, Shizu-chan?” Izaya asks.
“Why'd you come?” Shizuo counters defensively.
“Relax, I'm only curious. You sent me a message and asked to see me. Did you want something?”
Shizuo huffs, tries to refill his cup, but the bottle is empty. He gets up from the couch and grabs a beer from his fridge.
“I don't want to fight with you anymore,” Shizuo says at last, and Izaya snorts.
“Yeah, Shinra said as much.”
“God, he's a fucking blabbermouth,” Shizuo grumbles, and Izaya laughs so hard he falls over into the vacant space Shizuo left. It's warm.
“I just...” Shizuo trails off, and when Izaya looks up at him, he finds Shizuo hovering awkwardly over the couch. Izaya quickly sits up so Shizuo can reclaim his spot. “You almost died in front of me. It made me think about how stupid the whole thing is. What if I actually kill you one day and have to tell your sisters?”
“They'd be ecstatic,” Izaya says as Shizuo flops back down. “Mairu might send you flowers.”
“Fuck that. They care about you, even if they don't say so. I thought a long time about it, and the truth is, I don't wanna kill anyone. So then I realized I can't keep fighting with you, or else one day, I really might kill you for real.” Shizuo sips at his beer and looks over at Izaya. “I don't want that.”
“I always assumed one day we'd either kill each other, or you'd outgrow me,” Izaya says, and his tone is so bitter that it startles him. He forces a smile when Shizuo keeps looking at him. “I guess that's why I'm not surprised.”
“We can't just fight forever. You could try being less of a dick, and then, I don't know. We could be friends. Or at least not antagonize each other all the time.”
“I don't know if you've noticed, Shizu-chan, but I'm not exactly good at having friends.”
Shizuo laughs. “Yeah, me neither. It'll be great.”
“Whatever. You have all kinds of friends. Lots of people care about you. It's almost sickening,” Izaya huffs. Shizuo doesn't look angry, though. He looks pensive.
“It's all surface stuff. I can't let go for even a minute, or I'll hurt someone. It's just kind of exhausting engaging with people.”
“Well,” Izaya says, very out of his element here, “you'll never find yourself a housewife with that attitude.”
“No shit,” Shizuo says, and they both laugh again. “What about you?”
“Me?”
“No housewife prospects?”
“Ah, afraid not. As surprising as it may be to you, I'm not likable to many people.” Izaya expects Shizuo to laugh, but he doesn't. Shizuo frowns like he doesn't get it.
“Yeah, but you're... You know.” Shizuo waves his hand.
“Huh?” Izaya asks.
“You look— You know. Like you do.”
It takes Izaya a second to realize Shizuo is complementing him. Then a wicked grin splits his face. Shizuo glares in response.
“Are you saying you find me attractive?” Izaya asks.
“Besides your shitty as fuck attitude, yeah, sure,” Shizuo says. “Don't act like you don't know how you look. It's obnoxious.”
“How do you think I look?” Izaya asks as innocently as he can. Shizuo clearly isn't buying it.
“Fuck off,” he spits, taking another gulp of beer. Izaya reaches over, puts his hand over Shizuo's on the can and takes it from him. He takes a sip of the beer, finding it disgusting, but he keeps his expression level and licks his lips before holding the can out for Shizuo to take. Shizuo just keeps staring at him.
“Shizu-chan,” Izaya purrs, ready to tease him more, but then Shizuo's mouth is sealing over his. He gasps into it, opening his lips for Shizuo's tongue. It's sloppy and wet, but Izaya can't even think of how gross it is. He's hot under Shizuo's touch, and when Shizuo yanks him into his lap, Izaya accidentally drops the beer in the floor. Neither of them really notice in their haste to get to each other.
Izaya winds up with his pants and underwear shoved clumsily down his thighs, his face buried against Shizuo's neck as Shizuo wraps his hand around them both, pumping them together until Izaya is coming first, panting hard against Shizuo's skin. Shizuo joins him a moment later, shuddering underneath Izaya, his hand stilling when Izaya starts trembling in overstimulation.
Izaya expects Shizuo to throw him out or...something. He's waiting for some sort of freak-out, but instead Shizuo lifts him up and carries him to bed, undresses them both entirely, and presses down against him until they're both coming again, Izaya's moans muffled in Shizuo's mouth because Shizuo won't stop kissing him.
In the morning, Izaya wakes to a pounding headache and feels like he's going to vomit. Shizuo is spooned behind him, strong arms wrapped around Izaya's waist. Izaya carefully untangles himself and watches with interest as Shizuo immediately cuddles into the pillow Izaya was using in his absence. Izaya dresses quickly and cleans the spilled beer before slipping out of the apartment. He makes it halfway home before he ducks behind a building to throw up.
***
He doesn't see or hear from Shizuo for a while.
He wonders if Shizuo is just mortified that it happened, or if he's mad Izaya ran off. Either way, Izaya thinks it was a mistake on both their parts, just two lonely people falling together because they fit in the moment. He decides to put it behind him.
When someone knocks at his door, he grumbles, expecting an unannounced client, or perhaps Shiki, who has been uncharacteristically nice to him lately, but when he opens the door, Shizuo is standing there, his mouth a hard line.
“Shizu—“ Izaya's cut off as Shizuo pulls him into a kiss, lifts him up and kicks the door closed behind them as Izaya melts against him.
“Fucking flea, stop running from me,” Shizuo growls, and he carries Izaya up the stairs to the bed, making good use of the lube Izaya keeps in his bedside table.
They spend the day in bed, alternating between fucking and dozing off. Izaya sleeps with his head against Shizuo's chest, wakes every now and then feeling like he should get up and do something, but he always ends up curling more into Shizuo, who snatches him closer as if daring him to try and get free.
It's dark outside when they finally get out of bed. Izaya takes Shizuo to a great ramen place down the street. They don't talk much, just focus on the delicious food, and when they're done, Izaya expects Shizuo to turn and head back to his own place, but he doesn't.
“You don't have any clothes at my place,” Izaya says, amused.
“What about those sweatpants you said would fit me?” Shizuo counters, looking defiant, and Izaya laughs until Shizuo kisses him to shut him up.
***
Izaya resumes working, and he meets with Shiki to go over a new assignment. It's a simple job, merely gathering information from various people about one target. Shiki scrutinizes him while they speak.
“You look better. Did you go to that onsen I suggested?” Shiki asks.
“No, but I'll definitely get around to it,” Izaya says.
“Well, whatever you did, I'm glad you're more focused.”
“Shiki-san...” Izaya pauses before continuing. “May I ask you something?”
“Sure.” Shiki leans back in his seat, takes a swig of bourbon. Izaya has opted not to drink, and likely never will again at one of these meetings.
“I know you know I'm responsible for what happened with Akane-chan,” Izaya says, and Shiki's gaze sharpens. “You knew the whole time, and you didn't kill me.”
“You serve a purpose,” Shiki says. “When you're not being a shady brat, you're useful to us. And Kine is fond of you. If I had you killed, he'd likely bitch at me about it.”
Izaya grins, thinking of Kine.
“Was that what you wanted to ask? Why I didn't have you killed?”
“Ah, no. I learned recently one of your colleagues was killed. Yasuhiro-san. We both worked with him before.”
“Did you have a point?” Shiki asks, raising his eyebrow.
“Did you have him killed because of what he did to me? Did you know?” Izaya asks. Shiki sighs, drains his glass, and sets it on the table.
“Izaya, your life would get a lot easier if you learned to be loyal to me. You can confide in me, and if not me, Kine.”
Izaya decides it's as good an answer as he's going to get from Shiki. He stands, bows, and turns to leave.
“By the way, stop fucking around with kids,” Shiki says, and Izaya stiffens. “What happened to that teenager wasn't directly your fault, but you've meddled with plenty others in the past. If you keep at it, I really will kill you, Kine be damned.” When Izaya turns back to him, Shiki is grinning.
***
Shizuo seems to have a thing for Izaya's couch. He's always lounging on it when the opportunity presents itself, and Izaya isn't surprised to find him there when he returns home.
“Shinra called,” Shizuo says, lifting his head to look at Izaya as he enters. “He said he's glad we're in the 'throes of hot passion', but that we have to see him soon.”
“Shinra doesn't have the right to boss either us or our passions around.” Izaya goes to the couch and flops on top of Shizuo, who grunts at him and wraps him up.
“You look like you had a bad day,” Shizuo says. Izaya nuzzles at his throat.
“It wasn't bad. I found out someone who wronged me was killed. I'm a little...put off that I didn't get to watch him suffer, but I'll survive.”
Shizuo stiffens underneath him. “Yeah? What did he do to you? Set you up or something?”
Izaya sighs softly, is grateful Shizuo can't see his face.
“Do you remember when you found me in the rain and asked if I killed someone?”
“Yeah,” Shizuo says, rubbing his hands down Izaya's back.
“I did. Well— I didn't kill him directly. It wasn't on purpose. But he died all the same.”
“What happened?” Shizuo asks, and Izaya is immensely relieved Shizuo didn't throw him across the room and actually wants to hear him out.
“He was this kid who wanted to make some assholes pay. Loan sharks, you know. They were going to run his family's business into the ground, so I gave him some information on the owner of the company, some unsavory things he'd like to keep secret, and that gave the kid leverage. Only, he didn't do it the way I said. He went to the guy's house and pulled a gun on him like some hotshot, and then the guy killed him.”
“Shit,” Shizuo says. “Yeah, that doesn't sound like it was your fault. You didn't give him the gun, right?”
“No,” Izaya says.
“Well then, it was his own damn fault. That was probably his plan all along, whether he went to you first or not. Kids like that are always going to find a way.”
“Yeah,” Izaya says, closing his eyes. He breathes in Shizuo's scent, can't believe Shizuo is actually comforting him about this.
“So is that the guy who was killed? The owner or whatever? You wanted to see him suffer?”
“Oh, no. He's alive. I'm going to use my own resources to blackmail him and make him wish he'd never been born. I'm talking about...someone else. A man I've been in meeting rooms with many times, and never thought much of.
“I got pretty drunk at a meeting with the Awakusu. It was in bad form, but I wasn't happy about that kid, you know? I'll be the first to admit I've had a hand in a lot of the goings on in this city, teenagers included, but those kids are different. They're all desperate to find a way to stand out and be something extraordinary, and like you said, they'll find a way whether I help or not. But this kid, he was an idiot. I gave him something foolproof to use, and somehow he fucked it up. He was never going to live anything other than an incredibly boring life, and he's dead now. Apparently my sisters knew him pretty well. At least, they went to his funeral, but they could have done that just to get out of school.”
“Sounds like something they'd do,” Shizuo says. He hugs Izaya to him, and Izaya feels bolstered enough to keep going.
“Anyway, I got drunk and Shiki-san was pretty annoyed at me. He ordered one of his men to drive me home, but the guy didn't drive me home. He took me to his place, and—“
Shizuo is squeezing him tightly now. Izaya gasps for air, and Shizuo releases him, goes back to petting his back.
“Fuck, I'm sorry— That bastard.”
“For a while, I wasn't even sure it happened. And then I thought I deserved it. I learned Shiki-san killed him not long after it happened. I don't know how he found out, but if I had to guess, it'd be that Yasuhiro-san was bragging about it. He was an idiot.”
“I'm sorry. God, that's so fucked up. And then you came home to drink with me, and I just grabbed you like that. You must've been scared,” Shizuo says.
“Of course I wasn't scared. I've been wanting you to grab me for a long time.”
“Still.”
“Why did you grab me, anyway?”
“I told you, I did a lot of thinking when you busted your head open in front of me. And then, I don't know. You were so sad and you were all by yourself, but you were making yourself be alone. I didn't like it.”
“I should know better than to ask you for a legible explanation,” Izaya jabs, and Shizuo grumbles at him and kisses his hair.
***
Izaya wakes up the next morning to an empty bed.
He rolls over onto his back and stretches out, wondering to himself if Shizuo left for the day already. He can't help the wave of anxiety that hits him. He unloaded a lot of things on Shizuo before. He doesn't guess he would be able to blame Shizuo for running off.
He sighs and forces the worry away, gets out of bed and dresses. No matter what, he still has work to do, and he refuses to wallow about any of this any more than he already has.
As he makes his way downstairs, he blinks in surprise when he finds Shizuo in the kitchen, wearing Izaya's favorite frilly apron. It was a gag gift from his sisters, but Izaya truly likes it and the material it's made of, likes to wear it when he actually bothers cooking.
“You need to go grocery shopping,” Shizuo informs him. “You barely have anything here, but I made you an omelet.”
“I thought you left already,” Izaya says.
“It's Saturday,” Shizuo says, and Izaya frowns, reminds himself to keep better track of the days of the week.
He makes his way to Shizuo, tuning out Shizuo's nagging. Shizuo shuts up when Izaya hugs him from behind, holds on tightly in wordless thanks. Izaya doesn't know exactly what he's thanking Shizuo for, but decides it's probably a bit of everything. Shizuo doesn't ask for an elaboration.
“I'll make dinner,” Izaya murmurs between Shizuo's shoulder-blades.
“Then we'll definitely have to go grocery shopping,” Shizuo says. “You should make breakfast tomorrow, too.”
Izaya smiles, hugs him tighter, never once asks when they decided Shizuo was staying so long.
“You've got a deal.”
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Thanks for the 7th Anniversary - Part 2: Cosplay stamp rally
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
*Cut to a hallway*
Staff: Hello
Minami: Good morning
Torao: ……
Minami: What happened, Midou san? Is that a memo?
Torao: The model we performed with gave me her contact details
Minami: Aah, I see. Good for you
Torao:.......
Minami: Why do you look so depressed? I would have expected you to say something like “mpf, well, it can't be helped"
Torao: I used to think it was hard to be a popular man, but lately I’ve started having some doubts about that
Minami: For example?
Torao: I mean, on the contrary, it makes me look like a super easy man
Minami: That it does
Torao: If you want to get close to somebody you should just face them and say you want to exchange contacts. Direct and honest
Torao: At least, that’s the kind of people who approach Touma. Although he seems to think they give him their contacts for business purposes
Minami: Inumaru san’s lack of knowledge about people from the entertainment ended up being a boon
Torao: Yeah
Minami: And still, he was a celebrity among other celebrities competing in Black or White. He joined the contest twice with different groups
Torao: How about you, Minami? Have you ever received the contact details of somebody you barely knew?
Minami: It happened several times before I traveled abroad. Now, not anymore
Torao: As I thought. The difficulty level required to reach you is too high, now. I would immediately give up
Minami: I suppose there’s something good in becoming an adult
Momo: Ah, Minami and Torao! Hello!
Yuki: Good morning
Minami: Ah, Re-vale san. Good morning
Torao: Good morning
Momo: What's with the long faces? Are you reconsidering your talk or what?
Minami: We were just checking our difficulty levels
Minami: Do you normally receive contact details from strangers, Momo san?
Momo: Contact details? Not really? I only accept things like that after a good talk with the person!
Minami: How about you, Yuki san?
Yuki: Pretty often, actually
Torao: Aah….
Yuki: Mh? Why did you say “aah”?
Torao: It was an “aah” to say “as expected”
Yuki: And what do you mean by “as expected”?
Momo: Darling!! You’re back-stabbing Momo chan without him even knowing! I’m jealous!
Yuki: Fufu. It’s hard to be a popular man
Torao: Aah…
Yuki: Could you please stop saying “aah”...
*Pin pin*
Yuki: Oh, that’s strange. Chiba Shizuo san is messaging me
Momo: Chiba Shizuo san?
Yuki: Yes. “It’s pretty sudden, but shall we go cruising together?”
Yuki: I don’t see why…. What’s going on, I wonder?
*Pin pin*
Minami: Ah….Shiba Shizuo san is messaging me as well.
Torao: What did he say?
Minami: “It’s pretty sudden, but shall we go play golf abroad together?”
Yuki: Do you often do things together?
Minami: No, it’s my first time being asked
Momo: Maybe you both got spammed?
Minami: The content is a little different
Torao: He must feel lonely. Showing such willingness to use money to dispel his gloom
Momo: That’s what rich people do! I understand rich people's feelings pretty well!
Yuki: Chiba Shizuo san is not somebody who would blow his money like this. Dispelling his gloom…
Yuki: Doesn't sound right
Minami: Maybe he argued with Nikaido san?
Yuki: Most likely
Yuki: Since it was announced that Yamato kun will act in Mikatsuki Ookami, there’s been a weird tension in the air
Minami: Maybe, due to the fact he had an argument with Nikaido san, he’s trying to comfort his broken heart by spending time with us, who are the same age as his son
Yuki: Ah, that must be it. That’s pretty annoying, I’ll just forward the message to Yamato kun
Momo: Wait, wait! You’re going to make things even more complicated, if you do that! We’re not even sure whether they had a fight!
Yuki: Let’s ask, then. “Did you fight with Yamato kun?
*Pin pin*
Yuki: He did
Torao: How docile, the internationally famous Chiba san…
Momo: Okay, well, what if we ask Chiba san to come to the Nanahoshi school festival?
Yuki: Ah, yeah. Idolish7 will be there as well, since they’re going to perform
Minami: Are you going to the Nanahoshi school festival?
Momo: Yes! Since it’s a school connected to the entertainment world, it’s totally fine for famous people to go!
Momo: I think it should be fine if Chiba san comes as well. Then, we could mediate for him with Yamato
Yuki: You’re so kind, Momo. You make it difficult to imagine there was a time when you were angry with Chiba Shizuo san
Momo: I’m not doing it for him, I’m worried about Yamato! His careless nature reminds me of mine, I can’t let him down
Yuki: Ah
Minami: We’re planning to go to the Nanahoshi school festival as well
Torao: Yes, since Haruka attends the school
Momo: Ah, I see! He’s in the high school trio together with Iori and Tamaki! How cute!
Minami: However, Isumi san doesn't want us to go
Yuki: Why?
Torao: Apparently, he feel embarrassed because of some kind of class project
Momo: Is it something involving Iori and Tamaki as well?
Yuki: Maybe they’re dressing up as women?
Minami: There’s no shame in dressing up as women, nowadays
Torao: They may feel embarrassed, and then end up being unexpectedly good looking
Momo: Must be so cute! I can’t wait!
*Cut to Kujo’s house*
Haruka: Excuse me
Touma: Excuse me
Aya: Welcome! Haru chan, master!
Touma: Master, what…? I’m not a master, I’m really really really really average
Aya: Haru chan told me that you’re super good at making okonomiyaki!
Haruka: You told me you wanted to learn how to make them
Touma: I can teach you, but keep in mind that my okonomiyaki is really really really really normal
Touma: Nothing more than “aah, so that’s the way I can make okonomiyaki at home”
Aya: It’s okay! I’ll put all of myself in learning that, so please teach me!
Haruka: Apparently, Kujo asked for some okonomiyaki with udon. I remember you prepared us something like that before, Touma
Touma: I always put chinese noodles in there. Your grandma doesn’t, right, Haru?
Aya: I want to learn how to make ramen and put an okonomiyaki on it, and then a fried egg on the okonomiyaki!
Haruka: How many things do you want to put on the plate? Did Kujo really ask for something like that?
Aya: He really did! He also said it was cute!
Haruka: Cute?
Aya: After a business trip to Hiroshima, he also bought an okonomiyaki keyholder! Look!
Haruka: Ah, it’s true…he should go for something cuter when he buys souveirs for a girl…
Aya: I do think it’s cute!
Haruka: Really?
Touma: Is a fried egg cute, by the way? Well, let’s try to do that…
Aya: Wah!! Thank you so so much!! I’ve already made the sauce myself, so we don’t need to…
Haruka: Wait wait wait…! I thought the okonomiyaki sauce was a crucial thing…!
Aya: I want to show some originality!
Haruka: We need to make plain flavor first! By the way, is he home?
Aya: He is! Want me to call him?
Haruka: Ah, no…!
Aya: Tenn nii chan!
*Door opens*
Tenn: Hello
Haruka: Ah… hello…
Touma: Hello! Our Haru really cares about your little sister
Tenn: Thank you, I’m glad you get along with Aya
Touma: You're having okonomiyaki, right?
Tenn: I’ll try some. Are you good at making it?
Touma: I’m not. I’ve made it sometimes but it’s just average. I’d dare to say the flavor is not terrible, tough
Tenn: I look forward to it. Also… you take care of Riku as well
Touma: It’s not biggie. He’s a good guy, I can’t leave him
Tenn: He told me you’re a good person, Inumaru Touma. Thank you
Touma: Ahah! Oh, stop! I don’t need to be thanked for…
Haruka: Wait!
Touma: What happened, Haru?
Haruka: I didn’t know you and Kujo were on such good terms!
Touma: Well, he’s Riku’s brother…
Tenn: He often takes care of Riku…
Haruka: But you're more connected with me! And still, you’re always super cold with me and best buddies with Touma?!
Tenn: I don't have the impression I’m being cold with you
Touma: Y’know, Haru always puts you on a pedestal
Haruka: Whaat?! That’s…definitely not true…
Tenn: I know it's not true. I understand why you don’t like me. It’s because I make you think about what Kujo san did to you
Haruka:.....
Tenn: Make yourselves at home, okay? Aya, call me if you need anything
Aya: Thank you, Tenn nii chan!
Haruka: Still…it’s not that I don’t like him…
Touma: Haru?
Haruka: No, it doesn't matter. Can I help you with something, Acchan?
Aya: Can you bring me the electric grill?
Haruka: Yes
Touma: I’ll cut the cabbage. May I wash my hands, first…?
Aya: Ah, the hand soap is here! By the way, Haru chan, will you join the school festival?
Haruka: You know about it, Acchan?!
Aya: Tamaki nii chan asked Tsunashi san to go. I was invited as well
Haruka: So, are you going to come?! Don’t come!!
Aya: Why?!
Touma: He’s been repeating the same thing for a while. “Don’t come to the school festival!”
Haruka: It’s awkward. I thought we had a different concept, as a group!
Touma: I think we've gotten more comfortable with these kinds of things, lately. Also, I promised your grandma to take pictures
Haruka: Pictures?! What the heck…
Aya: Haru chan, what are you going to do at the school festival?
Haruka:....cosplay stamp rally
Aya: Cosplay stamp rally?
Haruka: You need to find guys in cosplay and get a stamp from them. If you get ten, you receive a souvenir
Touma: Sounds interesting. What cosplay are you going to do?
Haruka: It’s a secret. I will never show you
Touma: But then I won’t be able to collect stamps!
Haruka: Do you need the souvenir that much?! If you guys come, I’ll hide!
Aya: Is it such an embarrassing dress?
Touma: A bunny girl
Aya: An old drunkard
Haruka: No and no
Touma: A feudal lord
Aya: A full body suit
Haruka: No and no
Touma: It doesn't seem that embarrassing… Okay, if you were asked to compare your costume to somebody from ŹOOĻ, who would you choose?
Haruka: You.
Touma: Me?! Do I look that bad?
Aya: You don’t look bad, Touma san
Touma: Really? But I think my eyes have an unpleasant glare…
Aya: It’s kind, actually! And you’re also amazing at julienne strips!
Touma: How cute…I want a little sister like this too
Haruka: Aaah…the school festival….it really sucks…
*Cut to Tsukumo building*
Ryo:....
Ryo:....everything is perfect. The drawers are empty, the desk is empty
Ryo: It looks fun, doesn't it? A whole agitated world. But it’s okay, I'll take care of the rest.
Ryo: Ah, that’s…
Ryo: That’s the document that proves that Riku and Tenn, from Trigger, are twins…
Ryo: Were it to be publicity released, it would create a big mess
Ryo: Mpf…I'm done with that. Let’s take care of it. The shredder…
Ryo: That Shirou guy put away the shredder as well? What am I supposed to do with this, now?
Ryo: It would taste bad, just throwing it away. I need to properly get rid of it
Ryo: Shall I burn it? It’s good for me to act like a lovely guy, for once!
Ryo: But, where shall I burn it? Let���s see…
Ryo: A temple? There is often a bonfire there. I think I’ll go on the next rest day…
Ryo: I’ll harmlessly go out with Riku and Tenn’s birth secret in my hands
*Cut to North Meir Royal Palace*
Seth: <Well, I was able to complete my duties without any delay today as well. I wonder if Nagi's alright…>
Seth: <The other day, during our call, Japan's summer heat looked terrible…>
Seth: <It would be difficult even for me to wrap some of North Meir’s cold breeze in a ribbon and send it to him…>
Thorvald: <Your Highness Seth>
Seth: <What’s going on, Thorvald?>
Thorvald: <A person from Hotel Midou gave me this>
Seth: <What is it…a letter? Who wrote it?>
Thorvald: <Sakura Haruki>
Seth: <The dead Japanese pianist? Who’s the addressee?>
Thorvald: <It’s for Nagi. I think Your Highness Seth may have forgotten, but…>
Thorvald: <The staff member from hotel Midou who got this letter from Sakura Haruki contacted the royal family, and Your Highness asked me to dispose of the problem… >
Seth: < ....... >
Thorvald: <I was reluctant to throw it away, so it’s been in my possession ever since>
Seth: <It’s the letter Sakura Haruki wrote Nagi while he was receiving medical treatment at the hotel…>
Thorvald: <Exactly. I thought of giving it to His Highness Nagi, but…>
Thorvald: <I was worried he may have gotten angry if he'd known that the letter was about to be destroyed without him even knowing>
Thorvald: <I was afraid it might cause a fatal, definitive crack between two people who just got over a conflicted relationship…>
Seth: < ...Did you see the contents of the letter?>
Thorvald: <I didn’t open it. His Highness Nagi would notice if the letter had been opened>
Seth: <The fact that Sakura Haruki was imprisoned is pure reality. If he wrote complains and increscius things about me, Nagi would mistrust me>
Thorvald: <Probably, yes
Seth: <We need to continue loving each other, it’s in the best interest of North Meir as well>
Seth: <I’ll pretend I never saw that letter and get rid of it>
Thorvald: <Your Highness Seth…>
Seth: <Don’t look at me like that, I know what you're thinking! However, Nagi would definitely get angry…>
Seth: <If I act carelessly, I’ll just end up making the whole situation even more miserable. It’s better to bury everything in the darkness>
Seth: <I never saw that letter>
Thorvald: < ...understood>
Seth: < ….aren’t you going to stop me?>
Thorvald: <The authority and welfare of the Royal Family is more important to me>
Thorvald: <I am not willing to see the two of you going back to a conflicted relationship, just to protect a dead man’s honor>
Thorvald: < Since Your Highness Seth told me to get rid of it, I’ll do it right away. As Your Highness wishes>
Seth: < .......>
Thorvald: <So, with Your permission…>
Seth: <Wait! Forget wait I said. Nagi will have the letter>
Thorvald: <Your Highness Seth…that’s a wonderful, brave, just decision. You’re the pride of North Meir>
Seth: <However, I have a request. I want to be the one who gives the letter to Nagi>
Seth: <Nagi will probably question me. His blood will boil with indignation against me. So, in order not to make the situation spin out of control, I want to be close to him to properly apologize>
Thorvald: <You have a wonderful heart. I am so impressed I can’t find the words>
Thorvald: <So, the letter will be kept in the Royal Palace until Prince Nagi is back…>
Seth: <No, I feel like the content may be urgent>
Seth: <In that case, his resentment towards me will double. I need to give him the letter as soon as possible>
Thorvald: <You’re saying that…You’re planning to go to Japan? When?>
Seth: <This weekend>
Thovald: <I can't organize the trip in such a short time!>
Seth: <Adjust the schedule, then>
Thorvald: <But…ah…I wonder if I can… I'm off to make preparations >
Seth: <Yes>
*Door closes*
Seth: <Nagi…I’m afraid you’ll scold me…however, thanks to this letter, I’ll get to meet you after a long time>
Seth: <I wonder if you’re doing well… >
End of part 2
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