"You kill what you fear, what you wish to be, you kill with sarcastic sincerity, you sharpen your guilt like a guillotine, you kill what you fear, you kill what you fear…"
"...--" Excuses raddled on from the lowly businessman, causing a crease in the brow of the Nightshade employee. Cigarette held in suspension as it halted in it's path to his mouth and a glare intensified through blue tinted glasses. It was like this all day. Excuses, excuses, excuses on top of whining, bitching, and one too many failed attempts at sympathy. The weight of each irritant held on tightly to Shizuo's shoulders and he wouldn't be relinquished from such an annoyance until he found a proper outlet for it all.
"--This is what's to be expected for a new business. Profit, and a great deal of it, should be well on it's way. I just need a little more money, I could just take out another loan."
I'm gonna fucking hit him.
This thought was counterproductive to all the work he put toward good behavior at his new job. Even if his higher ups knew about his infamy in Ikebukuro, it wouldn't save him from getting that pink slip indicating a job loss. Grinding his teeth out of habit, the brute shot his hardened glance to the new recruit. This was their first job together, so needless to say he wasn't sure how she would react to this situation, but he sure as hell knew how to. Of course, he was simply the bodyguard, but that didn't stop him from taking the lead. After all, he had to show his trainee the ropes.
Taking a final drag from his cigarette as he threw it to the ground and put it out with a dramatic stomp. Upon removing his glasses and placing them within the safety of his pocket, a brow lifted in anger. Advancing on the lowly businessman, if he could even be called such a title, Shizuo began a rant of his own. "So, you mean to tell me after six months of business, you haven't come up with a single dime of pay? How are you surviving? I can tell from that damn gut of yours that you're eating just fine."
A huff of hopeless amusement, the brute cracked his usual grin. "--and you can pay us with anything. We have a barter system. You mean to say you can't even give us a fucking lamp as payment? A goddamn, old-as-shit, piece of junk lying around the house?" Managing to back the businessman into a corner, the blonde gripped his shoulder with the intensity of two cities. It was more than enough to get a small, satisfying squeak from his victim. Shizuo felt sick to his stomach, but continued on out of habitual animosity.
"Nishiki," He beckoned, eyes kept on their client. "I've had it with this louse's stupid fucking excuses. Why don't I just knock him out and take the clothes off his back for payment?"
“that’s right, i’m the biggest coward in the world. but so what if i am? the fact that i’m a coward has nothing to do with beating the crap out of you.”
—heiwajima shizuo
Yet again. Lisa had disturbed someone else’s day yet again. The food she had at home was dwindling already and the money she had in her wallet was almost gone. At most, she could afford really cheap street food. That would, probably, be enough for her to make it home. Shutting her eyes tightly and clenching her jaw, the weak girl strengthened her will. Without causing another disturbance, she needed to get up, find some food stand, and then make it home. Was her roommate there already? She didn’t know. She hoped not. Stupid…Stupid… Even after she had abandoned her old life, worries still weighed her down. Pointing fingers and whispered comments. Panting, Lisa stood up shakily.
What’s happening? A bad break up? Do you think she’s…The whispers grew in volume, the raised hands covered nothing but appearances, threw up a wall between audience and scene. Lowering the upper half of her body, hands resting atop one another, Lisa began to bow. "I’m S-Sor…" Her voice, already soft, was weaker and barely audible at all.
Blinking eyes saw nothing as the man blurred. Shifting her weight slightly to better steady herself, Lisa tried to form solid thoughts. Vision shifting upwards, the lady began to fall. Sorry…
Brow lifted curiously as the silence grew between the two, the only noises being the sea of murmurs growing around them. As she stood, Shizuo removed himself from his crouching position as well. Taking a drag of his cigarette, the brute huffed an exhale of smoke in the direction of their bystanders. As she murmured her apology, he took the stick of premeditated cancer from his mouth. "What are you sorry for? Just get something to e--"
Oh, she collapsed.
Shizuo stood there for a moment, bringing the cigarette back to his lips as he processed the series of events that just occurred. The whispers grew in volume, which became the prime irritant for his rising annoyance. Turning to view the small clique of girls that grew the loudest, he growled in a low tone, lifting a dual-fingered point in their direction, cigarette between each finger. "Will ya' shut the hell up? I'm thinking here!" Keeping his stance for a moment before returning his attention back toward the collapsed girl, the blonde sighed in annoyance as he picked her up from the ground, resting her head on his chest as he began his stride in the original direction he moved in.
Great. He was carrying a chick he didn't know back to his place. An unconscious chick back to his place. He may as well receive a reward for being an ultimate creep. Still, it was better that he took her to make sure she was fine, rather than leaving her there for the world to expose her to anything worse.
Walking through the streets of Koi, the strangers passing her without so much as a glance, Lisa kept her head trained downwards. Every now and then she would chance a glance upwards, sight consuming the city lights and bright signs. A hopeful look would be given to shops with signs of ‘Now Hiring’ before the girl would whip out her phone and list the address down. In the middle of one particular writing, Lisa drew a heavy breath. Bending forward slightly, she clutched at her stomach which was about as empty as her wallet. Phone sliding into her bag, both arms were now hugging her stomach as the girl slowly bent down into a crouching position. If she applied enough pressure the pain would go away. She’d be able to make it home and perhaps eat something. Eyes still closed, she focused on her breathing. In. Out. In. Ouch. In..Out..In..Oww…
A day in the life of a bodyguard for a loan shark could be quite tiresome, especially when said bodyguard happened to be Shizuo Heiwajima. No matter how many cigarettes he smoked nor those damn breathing instructions that supposedly calmed down the nerves, the blonde brute still found himself hurling objects at the painfully stupid clients, or simply ended up tossing them if nothing was in his reach. Much to his chagrin, this day was actively stupid. Meaning periodically throughout the afternoon, the mentally deficients all swarmed to his side to pick a fight with the man riddled in infamy. However, the day began to draw to a close as he was released from work and now found himself walking home.
Peering to someone who had crouched down at the side of the walkway caused the brute to halt in his stride, a brow lifting curiously. Hearing a rumble, he assumed of his origins. Letting the cigarette hang from his lips, Shizuo crouched in front of the stranger, letting his arms rest on his knees. "You should probably quit torturing yourself and eat something."
"--... This is stupid." Shizuo spoke in a flat tone, a minimal grimace adorned on his lower visage. A small bowl of ice filled the grip of his hands as he glanced at the glistening condensation on the metal object. In his peripheral vision, Micah (his super handsome and cool writer) tapped his wrist as an indication to hurry the dare up. A simplistic sigh transitioned to a low-toned growl of annoyance as his irritant of a mun continued on, babbling about just getting it over with.
Slipping a thumb under the waist of his pants, the brute exposed himself to anyone with an aerial view. Dumping the ice cubes against his skin, a slight exhale gave hint of his surprise by the temperature.
"...--" Silence, his features expressionless as he dropped the bowl to the ground, fingers twitching minimally. After almost a half a minute of appearing like that of a statue, the belligerent brute finally spoke up about his displeasure.
"God fuck! This was a stupid fucking idea! Who the hell would even think up of this? I'll rip off their goddamn arms!" He took this dare well.
Arms held in suspension as the brute hesitated to move, hues widened and brow furrowed. His sight fixed upon the Cheshire grin of his opponent, the minimal 'tssk' giving hint to the extension of his sneer. The sounds of the city went silent. The lights grew blurry and dim. These were the symptoms of a drunken stupor and for the first time in his life, Shizuo cursed at his sobriety. He cursed at his immobility, and he inwardly swore up and done that he'd kill the damned flea that stood less than just a few inches away. The bastard's hands touched his torso, the object he flung with precision entered his chest like a thorn in a gardener's thumb.
It felt like rain.
"I...za...ya.." The brute cringed, jaw wired shut in agony. At the sound of chuckling, a low-toned growl echoed within his throat. A weak arm lifted, his hand clenching on the broker's neck. A failed attempt to place pressure against his enemy's throat pissed him off, almost more so than being stabbed. As the other hand found it's way to Izaya's, Shizuo clutched to it tightly in venture to ale the aching his blade caused within his chest. "I'll fu..cking k-kill you."
"Aa, how are you to go about that if I've already beaten to you to the punch?" The informant spoke in a sadistically playful tone, brow lifting as he whimsically sighed. Amusement played on his lips as a grin, everlasting and unwavering. "Well, more accurately, I've beaten you to the stab haven't I~? Eheh."
The two were riddled with scratches, bruises and blood. Clothes were dirty and tattered while bodies were beaten mercilessly. Anyone that knew of their rivalry would expect this to be just another fight, but this moment was different than any other. In the years of back and forth banter, they had grown tired of each other. There was no value in the other's life. The last saving grace was getting to end the life of your opponent yourself. This fact they mutually understood at the start of their match.
Lightheaded. Shizuo wavered as he fought to stand, finding lack of stamina not an unimposing issue when it came to his lack of breath. The blade twisted in his chest as the informant requested a more agonized expression from the brute, a request in which the blonde unwillingly provided. The lump in his throat provided discomfort. The cough to clear the imposition brought the taste of iron to his tongue, a wet sensation trickling down his chin as the pool of blood leaked from his mouth. The world was spinning a thousand miles an hour and as he was unable to continue holding himself up, Shizuo dropped to his knees.
Izaya followed him down, resting his weight on one knee. A hand on his switchblade while the other snaked around his enemy, the informant put his free hand against the back of Shizuo's head, moving it forward so their forehead's touched. Vision was of each other. The brute still desperately clutched the informant's throat in hopes that his strength would return.
"Heh." Another twist of the blade tore a larger hole into his chest, blood now soaking the extent of his clothing. The only thing holding him up now was the informant's grip on his hair. "I've won, Shizu-chan. This game was fun while it lasted."
"C-Cocky fucking flea." He spat, blood clogging his throat.
"Aa, I suppose you're right. Although, don't I have a little bit of reasoning to be? After all, you are spewing your innards on the ground. Eheh, you can't even hold yourself up!" Izaya cooed, sighing lightly. "I suppose this is the end. I didn't expect it to last this long! Who knew a varmint like you would be so.. entertaining~?"
Grip released, the blonde fell to the ground with a mild thud, clutching the hole on his chest. A struggled sight to the broker, Shizuo gave a weak sneer before losing visible consciousness. "See you in hell, rat bastard."
"Heh, if only." Izaya replied with a simplistic grin, slipping the blade from his enemy's chest, giving a final salute before he ran off at the sound of sirens.
Lights were now noncomplex, blurred colors. Sounds were muffled and barely audible. The plasma in his mouth pooled as he was no longer able to clear his throat. This is it, then. He faintly thought to himself, imagining those who would receive the news, his brother the most present in his mind. I'm actually dying. Ah, what the fuck. His visage was inexpressive, the only hint of his emotion within the brute's irises. Fear and content. Fear for what would lay ahead of him. For what his sibling would think of the outcome of his elder brother. His only resolve, the only content emotion he held on to, was the fact that he knew this fate was long coming. That it was only a matter of time. His only regret was that he didn't take the informant's life with him.
His last memory was the inconsistent shouting of paramedics as they found his body, and how a light rain just began to fall from the sky. It chilled his face that was already so cold, almost spitefully. Even so, the spray was slightly refreshing and almost calming. His last thought almost amused himself, finding it comical that he realized where his priorities lied.
"I hope I can have a cigarette wherever the hell I'm going."
"Smells like shit." The habitual phrase caressed the low-toned growl that Shizuo produced, a grimace casting over his features reiterating his statement. Placing the cigarette in his mouth in a prompt manner, he allowed his hands to be freed as he cracked his knuckles in preparation for his rising vexation (and ultimately what that would lead to). Hand returning to the source of his future health issues, the brute allowed a menthol exhale to calm his nerves little by little, bit by bit, and piece by piece. This was to no avail as the single sound of a traffic buzzer or the horrendous slang of an impostor thug picked at his nerves like a crow at roadkill. The stench he noticed since the very moment he stepped foot outside his doorway completely and entirely knocked his day into the first layer of hell.
By now, he was in the fourth layer. The word 'kill' had crossed his mind an approximate number of forty-seven times, the collective variants of said verb reached the sixties by noon. The only thing containing his volatile temper was chain smoking a pack and a half of menthol 100's and the sweets shop on his way into town every morning. A cupcake a day didn't keep the anger away, but it certainly served as a distraction until it reached it's final destination in his stomach. Hands stuffed within the confines of his pockets, Shizuo continued his irritated mumbling as he made his way throughout the city, only to be silenced by the sight of a single, cocky grin.
Him.
The blonde brute was taken by surprise, the emotion underlying in his expression of minimally parted lips, widened eyes, and a furrowed brow. At first the only sound he could hear was a horrid ringing in his ears. However, this was soon followed by a rush of phrases filled with slurs of violence and swears. The word 'kill' now crossed his mind a number of eighty-three times, it's variations well into the hundreds. Jaw clenched in rage before it unhinged, vocalizing the slander that only just crossed his conscience.
"So, you're the cause of the shit awful stench I've been smelling all day." Shizuo declared, taking a huff from his cigarette straight afterward. He had too many questions cross his mind; Why was he here? How long had he been here? Did he plan on staying in Koi? Of course, these questions didn't matter. What mattered was making the image of Izaya's dead body smeared all over the pavement a reality.
"So, you wanna tell me why you're here or would you rather me just kill you instead?" The answer wasn't necessary. Shizuo would simply take it as the latter. Grin fully apparent over the brute's lower features, he removed his glasses promptly and placed them within his shirt pocket. Taking the last drag of his premeditated cancer, Shizuo threw it on the ground and snuffed it out with a dramatic stomp. Sneer growing in size as a vein popped into view, the blonde took grasp of the first metallic object he could reach. "I gotta say, I'd just prefer to kill you now."
Lips parted gently as they invited the promise of an unhurried death in the form of a rolled stick of nicotine. Sight settled upon the doorway leading to the house he took an oath to live in for fourteen months (per the lease agreements). Silence went interrupted as the sound of his exhale provided a cloud of smoke, which both calmed his nerves and intensified the need to fix his craving once more. Allowing the cigarette to hang from his mouth, Shizuo placed his hands into their according pockets as he began to walk forward.
Entering the new (or perhaps 'old' was a more proper fit) household invited mixed emotions. Granting the wandering thoughts of a new experience was certainly one of them. Allowing a hand to habitually reach his mouth, Shizuo cradled the promise of cancer with his middle and index finger. "This place is gonna require some work." He murmured, glance wandering to each individual example. The banister was practically torn apart and a leak was certainly apparent due to the monotone dripping noise coming from somewhere in the household. It was't optimal, but the space was in livable condition.
Noting the sound of footsteps from behind, the brute gave a leisurely glance to the doorway, a surprisingly attractive woman in his view. Another huff from his cigarette before letting his hand fall from his mouth, Shizuo turned to face her properly as a brow lifted in his own form of a greeting. "You the neighbor or something?"
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