Hello, and welcome! Thanks for dropping by! My name is Niao, and this is my writing blog! The Muse and I are rarely on the same proverbial page. Main/Personal blog is niaoflea.tumblr.com Currently writing for Durarara!!, Ajin, Shingeki no Kyojin, No. 6 (monthly for No.6 Day), and various others. ALWAYS ACCEPTING REQUESTS! Not just for the above fandoms, either--check my fandoms page for a full list of those I'm familiar with! <3
Short answer to the most important question: NO, none of my current projects are officially abandoned! That includes the fics Hard Sought (DRRR!!), In Pieces (DRRR!!), The Lost and the Caged (SnK), and Paint Me an Ocean (SnK).
My IRL life blew the fuck up within the past couple of months, and not in all bad ways--Iâve just been crazy busy. In addition, Iâve been working super hard on an original trilogy (and am beyond thrilled to be nearing completion of book two), taking more classes, and of course doing the food service thing to keep the proverbial boat afloat. On top of it all, my phone no longer supports the tumblr app, like, at all, so Iâve basically dropped off the face of the planet on my personal blog, too.
HOWEVER, Iâm determined to finish what Iâve started--Hard Sought is actually really close to completion, Iâve still got like all the latent inspiration for In Pieces, and the shiny new SnK season has me super motivated to be active in that fandom again, too. I also havenât forgotten about the requests gathering dust in my inbox.
I canât really commit to any specific date at this point, but please know that I havenât forgotten and do intend to return properly sooner or later! Iâm so sorry to disappear so abruptly and for such a long time, and anyone sticking with me has my deepest level of gratitude! Iâll do my best to be back and updating sooner rather than later. Until then! -Niao =^^=
Fandom: AjinÂ
Characters/Ships: Kei/KaiÂ
Rating: T Â
Length: oneshot; 4216 words
Summary:
In which Kaito befriends a solitary merboy.
AO3 Link (Coming Soon!)
Read on Tumblr:
(A/N) A very late Secret Santa gift for @lokh; I am so sorry itâs late, dear! ;A; I just couldnât for the life of me find an ending and then it got put off and I... Iâm sorry. Iâm also a bit rusty with Kouâs character, but I hope you otherwise enjoy! QuQ
"Don't you ever go home?"
Kaito jumped, wiping at his face with the heal of one small hand. Snuffling faintly, he looked around.
"Who's there?"
There was a soft splash, followed by silence. Kai looked down at the pond beside him from his elevated perch on a boulder. Tucking his knees closer to his chest, he peered into the dusk-dim water.
The surface parted; revealed a small face, followed by narrow shoulders and pale fingers that gripped the edge of the pond.
"... Oh."
"'Oh?'" the boy in the water echoed, tilting his head. He had pale skin, almost slate gray--though that could have been the light. "That's all?"
Kaito sniffed, leaning out over his stone. "Who are you?" He was scarcely six years old, all wide gold eyes and ruddy cheeks. The boy in the water was slightly smaller, if not younger.
"Kei."
"I'm Kai!" the human boy introduced himself brightly, offering his hand. Kei regarded it coolly, but didn't take it.
"Aren't you scared?"
Kai's head tilted. "Why?"
"I'm not human." Kei's eyes narrowed severely. "You are."
"That doesn't make a difference if we're friends!" Kai replied, his hand still held out.
Kei hesitated another beat, then reached up and grasped it. His skin was damp and clammy. He tightened his grip and pulled hard; used the human boy's hand as leverage to heave himself fully out of the water. After a slight scramble and thrashing of long, oil-black tail, he seated himself on the stone beside Kai.
"Oh wow!" the human boy exclaimed, reaching out with stubby fingers to touch the slick black scales. Though Kei stiffened, he allowed it. "So pretty...!"
A touch of color tinted Kei's ashen cheeks, although that might have been a trick of the light as he looked down. "Like a dead fish..." he murmured. "Not pretty..."
Kai shook his head furiously. "You're beautiful, Kei!"
The merboy drew back slightly, the blotched, inky gills on his sides rippling, then scoffed. "You're crazy. Is that why you spend so much time here in the woods?"
"That why you came out to meet me?" Kai asked, eyes shining and one palm still pressed to Kei's tail. "Because I come here every day?"
"I was curious."
"I'm so happy!"
Kei looked up in surprise to see the little human beaming, tears flowing down his round, flushed cheeks. After a beat of earnest confusion, the merboy looked down; allowed his hand to be held tightly.
"... You're weird."
... ... ...
"Kei!"
The merboy surfaced at the call of his name, shaking his head and scattering water droplets. "Hey, Kai."
The human boy kicked his shoes off excitedly; he wore no socks. Wading into the pond, he laughed as Kei swam up beside him.
"I'll come out of the water."
Kai shook his head. "No, I want to be a part of your world, too! I want to be where you are, Kei!"
The merboy shook his head, but then shrugged as he glided back out toward the deeper water. Kai yelped as he stumbled on the rocky pondbed, then splashed into the water. Kei appeared at his side, steadying him.
"You can swim, right?" The merboy's voice was muffled from beneath the surface.
"K-Kind of!"
"Kind of?"
"Whoa!" Kai yelped as he fell forward, crashing into the water face-first. Kei, with a worried exclamation, dove after him. Though the pond wasn't more than five feet deep, the human was small; the merboy was even smaller, but his very nature nullified any danger the water presented. Grabbing the human by the arms, he dragged him back toward the bank.
"I knew this was a bad idea..." he grunted, even as Kai giggled.
"No, no, I've got this! I can learn!"
"Or drown trying," Kei replied dryly, letting the human's body come to rest in the shallows. Kai sat up, shaking his head as the merboy peered at him from slightly deeper water.
"Than teach me, Kei!"
The merboy blinked, his membranous third-lid lagging a beat behind his standard eyelids. "Merfolk know how to swim instinctively. I wouldn't know how to teach you."
Kai pouted momentarily, then shrugged. "Fine, fine... But we'll stay in the water, anyway. Okay?"
Kei crawled into the shallows on his elbows, murky tail fanning out behind him. "Okay. But why?"
"Because I want to be part of your world!" Kai reiterated, beaming. "I don't want you to come into my world--my world stinks!"
... ... ...
Kei looked down at the fish in his hands--cold and dead and delicious. He took a contemplative bite--teeth sheering through scales and elongated tongue snaking out to lap at leaking fish innards--as he watched Kaito sleep, curled up on his usual rock.
The human boy was scrawny. Though merfolk were self-dependent nearly from birth, Kei knew that humans weren't. His playmate seemed an oddly solitary human youngling, and often bore minor injuries. Along with Kei's curiosity there was a sharper, more invasive emotion present.
Crunching mindlessly through the fish's spine, Kei wondered if the attachment he was developing to the human was a good thing or a bad thing. It would be so simple--and more acceptable, by merfolk standards--to drown the child. He could simply reach up and drag the boy under the water; hold him down. His tongue flashed out to claim one of the fish's eyes.
Strength-wise, there would be no contest.
"Kai. Kaito."
The human boy stirred, rolling over to find the merboy clinging with pale fingers to the edge of his rock. Rubbing drowsily at his eyes, he sat up.
"Hey, Kei. Sorry I fell asleep..." He yawned hugely.
"Want one?"
Kai blinked down at the fish offered on an upturned palm. He smiled, a radiant splitting of his face,
"Sure! But I'll have to cook it, you know."
Kei tilted his head. "Cook?"
"Yeah!" Scrambling off his rock, Kai swept together a pile of twigs. Kei watched in fascination as the human pulled a strange little devise from his pocket; used it to produce a flickering tongue of fire.
"Whoa..."
"Swiped one of my dad's lighters," Kai said sneakily, then speared the fish with a stick. Kei wriggled up onto the muddy bank as the fish began to crackle and blacken. He felt vulnerable in the open air, but he'd exposed himself to Kai in such a way too many times to start worrying about it now.
"That's really... cool..." Kei murmured, peering into the small fire. Kai pulled the fish back for a moment, prying at the scales with dexterous fingers, and then held it out to the merboy.
"Try some!"
The merboy leaned forward on his hands and took a hesitant chomp; his eyes widened sharply and he drew back, startled by the heat.
"That's good!"
"Right?" Kai asked excitedly, taking a bite of his own. Kei twisted and slithered back into the water with a splaying and thrash of his fan-like tail, returning a moment later with several more fish in-hand. Kai laughed, settling in for a night of shared fish beside their improvised campfire.
As soon as the fish were cooked, however, he doused the flame; hid their rendezvous from anyone who might venture into the woods.
... ... ...
"A lot of merfolk are known to drown people... for fun," Kei said one day, floating on his back near the center of the pond. "You're lucky I'm not one of them."
Kai laughed boisterously--it was that laugh that often beguiled the merboy, and he softened at the sound. Years had passed since the two had become proper friends; a day they didn't see one another was an unusual day indeed, although the time they spent together varied from a single hour to a full twenty-four.
"I am lucky..." Kai murmured warmly, one hand dangling into the pond. He let himself tumble forward into the water a moment later, and Kei squeaked with alarm. But Kai emerged a moment later, swimming strongly--if a bit clumsily--over to him.
"Who taught you?" Kei asked in amusement, though with a reluctant undertone of jealousy. Kai smiled at him as they came face-to-face in the water, the merboy's tail-fin brushing the human's bare legs.
"You did. I watch you."
Kei felt a slight flush of heat across his skin, which only grew worse when Kai laid a casual hand on his shoulder to steady himself. They hovered for a moment, close enough to feel one another's breath, then Kei pulled back.
"Let me show you how to dive, then."
"I'll bet I've about got that down, too!"
... ... ...
When Kaito entered high school, his visits became shorter, if not more infrequent. Kei spent hours perusing the schoolbooks his friend stashed by their pond, and often helped the human boy with assignments and tests.
"I'm so glad you didn't disappear."
Kei looked over at his friend in surprise. The water was no longer deep enough to pose any threat; it was, in fact, seeming a bit crowded, and the two boys were nestled next to one another in the shallows. Kai's textbook sat atop on a neon rubber flotation device.
"What do you mean?" he asked, tail flicking up and accidentally showering them both in droplets of water. Kai chuckled, pressing his bare shoulder against the merboy's.
Neither particularly noticed the temperature difference between their bodies, anymore.
"I mean..." Kai murmured, "I used to be afraid you'd disappear when I got older. Sometimes I was convinced you were just... an imaginary friend."
Kei snorted. "Idiot. I'm stuck here for a while longer, at least."
Kai raised a brow, but didn't dig into the statement. That was one of the things Kei loved about the human boy--he never pried.
But the merboy had decided to share these facts, regardless.
"Young merfolk, we're... placed in these isolated pools by family members, where we can grow up in safety. Not only are we too weak to fight currents when we're young, but we can't pass as humans." Again Kai gave him a curious look, but Kei left that particular detail unexplored. "My family will be coming back for me, soon--in a year, or so. That's about when you finish school, right?"
"If I pass math."
Kei smirked. "Move away from here. To Noto, in Ishikawa. I'll meet up again with you there."
Kai beamed at him. "I'd love that!"
Kei felt a tenuous smile come to his face, too. "Yeah."
... ... ...
Sneakers kicked up pebbles as Kaito ran along the pathway, the faint shouts of an angry, drunken human following him into the woods. It was a three-mile hike to the pond he knew so well, and he made the trip in scarcely twenty minutes.
"Kei! Kei, where are you?!"
His friend didn't surface. Kai looked around jerkily, scattering droplets of blood from fresh cuts across his forehead.
It wasn't desertion that Kai felt, however--it was relief.
"Oh please..." he murmured, "be gone, Kei... He's coming...
"I never wanted to drag you into my shitty world."
Kai had stashed the majority of his valued belongings, over the years, near the pond. Now he collected those most important, stuffed them into a backpack, and took off at a sprint back down the path. He couldn't hear the shouts of his pursuer through the expanse of woods that separated them, but they still echoed in his ears.
In Noto, Kei. I'll meet you in Noto.
Kai burst from the woods onto a rural road; held up his hands to ward off a blaring car horn. Diving across the street, Kai felt hope surge up in him as his sneakers hit the pavement of a city road and he glimpsed the name of the train station on a sign overhead. His legs were burning, but he didn't let himself slow; pushed his body to move faster.
If Dad... if he catches up with me...
Then--the gunshot.
Kai hit the ground instinctively, jarring his whole body and tumbling forward. Scrambling for an alleyway amid the shrieks of civilians, he gasped in terror as burly arms closed around him.
"Looks like we found the little runaway," came a rumbling voice, and Kai thrashed against the hands that had seized him. "I think the boss'll be pleased."
"Shit..." Kai groaned, redoubling his efforts; kicking out and trying to get his hands free to fight properly. But the click of a gun beside his ear made him freeze.
"I think he will," a second voice purred. "I'll give him a call. And I'll bet he'll come out to retrieve his son personally."
... ... ...
"I never wanted to drag you into my shitty world."
Kei leaned out from the arms that held him; leaned after the human boy, Kai, as he gathered his things and fled.
"I have... to go."
"Like hell you'll be going anywhere," his mother said shortly. "Humans aren't worth getting involved with, in any form. See the trouble they cause?"
"I'll go after him," another voice volunteered, even as a shape began to trot after the human. Kei's mother gave a shout of objection. "Don't worry about a thing, Kei. I'll make sure he's okay."
"Idiot...!" the mother grumbled, then bundled Kei in the opposite direction. The merboy's tail flopped with a halfhearted protest.
"Put me down...!"
"You can't even Walk, yet," the mother replied briskly. "You aren't being logical. You're my son. Be logical."
Kei fell still for a moment, and the mother gave a huff of satisfaction. But then, the son spoke again.
"Put me down."
His tone made the older woman slow, then stop. But she didn't relinquish her grip, and Kei's tail thrashed crossly, it's end whapping against the ground.
"Put me down." His voice was calm; steady; determined.
And the mother sighed. "Too much of your father in you, then..." she murmured, and relaxed. Kei tumbled from her arms, landing with an undignified squawk.
"What was that for, Hag?!"
"One minute playing the love-struck romantic, the next calling your own mother a hag," the woman huffed, crossing her arms. "See how you fair, then. I hope you live, offspring of mine, if only for biological-imperative reasons."
"H-Hey...!" Kei shouted after her, but the woman had already stalked away into the shadowy trees. Struggling to crawl after her on his elbows, the merboy slammed his tail angrily against the forest ground. "Aren't you supposed to teach your offspring how to Walk?! Hey!"
There was, of course, no reply. Kei bent his head, face twisting with anger and fear.
Kaito...
Someone help me...
Someone help him...
I have... to get to him...!
... ... ...
"He's on his way here!" the man that Kai was internally referring to as Henchman Two told Henchman One, the one holding him.
Henchman One made a satisfied sound in that rumbling voice of his. "Then we'll just sit tight, won't we, Kid?"
Kai didn't bother to object; limbs tied and gag stuffed tightly into his mouth, he sat obediently at the side of the ally, though watching for any sort of opening. He looked over sharply at a new voice from the entrance of the alleyway.
"Well, it isn't as if I haven't always wanted to save a damsel in distress... shame you're really Kei's damsel, and I'm just acting as a stand-in."
"Who the fuck do you think you are, Brat?" Henchman One snarled, cracking his knuckles. The brunette--of unremarkable height and build, certainly no older than his late teens--only grinned.
"But I guess this'll make good damsel-rescue practice."
He came at Henchman One--a hopeless match, in Kai's estimation. But within blurred seconds Henchman One was on his back, eyes rolled in their sockets. Kai's jaw slackened through the gag as Henchman Two angled his gun.
"Turn around. Don't try anything like that on me. I'll shoot you in a second, minor or not."
The boy held up his hands in exaggerated fear. "Ooh, I'm so scared!"
The gun popped and Kai winced, but the strange boy only glanced down at his leg in mild annoyance. Kai's eyes widened--and Henchman Two's practically bugged--as glimmering golden scales slithered out over the wound.
"Now what did you have to go and do that for? I hate feeling them squirm like that."
Henchman Two gave a panicked shout as he fired again; and then again, making gold scales blossom on the boy's chest and forehead. Then the gun was skittering across the ally, and Henchman Two shrieked as his wrist was wrenched. A single blow across his head sent him crashing to the ground, and then Kai was being untied and helped to his feet.
"I'm Kou!" the stranger introduced himself, taking Kai's hand; it felt familiarly cold. "And you?"
"Kai. You're a...?"
"Right. An acquaintance of Kei's," Kou answered, with a wink.
"Is he...?"
"Safe and sound," Kou chirped, collecting Kai's backpack and tossing it to him. "Where are we headed?"
"Train station," Kai answered breathily. "Kei and I... we were going to meet up in Noto."
Kou replied with a radiant smile. "Let's get you to the train station, then!"
... ... ...
The high school campus was nearly deserted--three days after graduation, only a few instructors were still cleaning before locking up for summer vacation. One such teacher was Hirasawa, and he was just closing his classroom door when the black-haired youth stumbled into the hallway.
"You!" the boy gasped out, and Hirasawa straightened. "I'm looking for Kaito! Kaito... shit, I don't even know his last name... He goes to school here. Do you know where he is?"
"He's in my class," Hirasawa replied, drawing himself up. "Or was, until three days ago. He's a special young man. What business do you have with him?"
The boy began to answer, but one of his legs buckled. He thudded against the wall with a curse, struggling to breathe. "Because he's in danger...!"
Hirasawa instantly put down his pile of books, hurrying to the boy's side. "It's that no-good father of his, isn't it?"
"You knew...?" the boy ground out.
Hirasawa nodded. "He seemed to be handling it well, so I figured he had a support network of some sort. I kept an eye, though. Are your legs hurt?"
Kei shook his head. "They just... don't want to work right, that's all."
Hirasawa peered critically at him for a moment, then scooped the boy up in one arm; Kei squawked an objection, but Hirasawa was already striding toward the exit.
"He told me he was going to move to Noto," the teacher said. "If he's being pressured, I'd be willing to bet he's headed for the train station."
"... His forehead was cut."
Hirasawa looked over at Kei's broken murmur; nodded seriously.
"We'll find him."
... ... ...
Kai and Kou ran side-by-side down the stairs, emerging into the bustling train station below. Kai peeled away at the ticket window as Kou spun to face the stairwell, watching the human's back diligently.
"Kei told you to meet him in Noto, eh?"
"Yeah..." Kai murmured, foot tapping impatiently in the ticket line.
"He's breaking every single rule our kind has, you know."
Kai looked over curiously. "He's never told me much detail about your kind."
"Sounds like him..." Kou sighed. "Well, the first thing is that we aren't supposed to reveal ourselves to humans, at all."
"That's a pretty obvious one."
"Second, we definitely aren't supposed to reveal safe zones like Noto to humans," Kou continued conversationally, though every muscle in his body was tense. "Third, we absolutely, positively are not supposed to fall in love with humans."
"Kei isn't..." Kai began, with some confusion, but a commotion on the stairs silenced him. They'd reached the window, and Kai quickly purchased two tickets before hurrying deeper into the station.
The shouts and gunshots behind them set Kai and Kou to scrambling along faster, weaving through the flustered crowd as they searched for the right terminal.
"I just hope he ended up leaving with his mom..."
Kai ground to a halt; Kou stumbled beside him. "What do you mean? Didn't he leave with his family?"
"The family comin' to get him was his mom and me," Kou explained. "But when he heard you calling for him, he wanted to go after you. That's why I went, in his place. But, knowing his mom..."
"You mean he might still be here?" Kai demanded, although the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of his head destroyed any hope of an answer.
"Who might still be here? The bratty little son of the boss? Yeah, I don't think he's going anywhere."
Kou spun to face another pair of henchman that appeared behind him, but the crowd was dissolving to reveal half a dozen gangsters closing in. Kou shifted nervously, raising his hands.
And then there was the kingpin.
"Well, well, well..." the father murmured, swinging a broken bottle--the edges of which matched the wounds on Kai's forehead perfectly. "If it isn't my little would-be-runaway. We aren't the type of family that runs away from one another, Son. You should know that."
Kai shuddered violently, and Kou stepped bodily in front of him. But both boys knew they were cornered, and with the sound of the approaching train in their ears.
The approaching man spread his arms. "C'mon home now, Son. Nothing else for it."
A brick flew through the air; struck the henchmen holding the gun to Kai's head squarely in the temple, dropping him instantly. All eyes swung upward, and Kai called out his teacher's name in surprise.
"Hirasawa-san?!"
"You've got a train to catch, haven't you, Son?" the man called out, from his vantage point on a staircase. He hefted another brick; lobbed it, and took down another would-be-evildoer. "Go on!"
Kai and Kou spun; bolted, much to the shouted objections of the irate father. Kou made sure to stay behind Kai, and winced as two bullets sunk into his shimmering flesh.
By the time they reached the terminal, only one pursuer had stayed with them. Kou gave a choked exclamation as a bullet found its way into his neck; went down as his body began to heal the wound, only to lose both of his eyes to twin shots. Kai found himself paralyzed as his father approached him, broken sake bottle exchanged for a handgun.
"Now..." the man began, only to gasp in surprise as a lithe shape jumped him from behind. Kai's eyes widened sharply.
"Run, Kai...!" Kei shouted, only to gag as the older human grabbed him by the throat. He wheezed, kicking out helplessly as he was lifted high. His legs began to flicker with oil-black scales as he struggled.
"And just who the hell--?" the father began, only to be cut off by a fist drilled squarely into his ruddy face. He dropped Kei; stumbled backwards, hands flying to his face, and fell backwards with the force of his son's punch.
Kai didn't bother to shout any vindicated or triumphant words; only helped Kei to his undependable feet, grabbed Kou's arm as the other merman blinked his healing eyes, and bundled the three of them into the beckoning doors of the train.
... ... ...
"'Local Teacher Responsible for Arrest of Crime-Lord,'" Kai read aloud, then laughed. "Hirasawa-san looks so uncomfortable in this picture... I'm glad he's getting credit, though."
"Hmm..." Kei stood at the window, gazing out at the picturesque Noto beach. "He's a good fellow."
Kai nodded, sprawling more comfortably across the bed in the freshly-rented apartment. "I can't believe... I got away..." he murmured. If he wasnât so used to dream-like days spent by the pond, he might earnestly doubt the reality of their escape.
Kei made another vaguely affirmative murmur, moving to the bathroom and beginning to fill the oversized tub with a rush of water. Kai rose, with a lazy stretch, and followed him.
Kei's skin was still deathly pale and cool to the touch, but not so damp as when he had been living in the pond. His jet black hair, too, was dry and fluffy; soft.
"You've got a pretty nice set of legs, I'll admit, but I think I like the tail better."
Kei shot him a supremely disbelieving look, but waited patiently for the bathtub to fill. Kai watched him contentedly. Only then did he stroll over to the human, wrapping his arms around his waist.
"I should have drowned you years ago."
Kai yelped in mock surprise as he was dragged into the bath with a splash. Scales sprang into being and a huge, ink-black tail materialized to fold over the human, trapping him, along with a set of thin arms, quite securely against Kei's narrow chest.
"Better?"
"Better," the human chuckled, then gazed down rapturously into the merman's dark eyes. "Kou said a funny thing to me, when he was listing off the merfolk rules you'd broken."
"Kou's an idiot," the merman scoffed.
Kai didn't falter. "He said you guys weren't supposed to fall in love with humans."
Kei blinked. "Love?" he echoed vaguely, then looked away thoughtfully. "Is that... am I in love with you?"
Kai shrugged. "I'm in love with you, I think."
Kei's eyes flickered back to meet the human's serious gaze. "That would make sense..."
Their lips moved closer; hovered, for a moment, and Kai drew back briefly before closing the gap between them. Warmth collided with chill in the hesitant, passionate meeting of lips, and then they parted slightly.
"I love you..." Kei sighed, his tail shuddering from base to tip.
Kai smiled slowly; tenderly. "I love you too, Kei. I'm so glad you didn't disappear
âIâm so glad we got to disappear together, instead.â
Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan
Characters/Ships: Gen-ish, heavily-inferred EruRi; Erwin, LeviÂ
Rating: TÂ Â
Length: oneshot; 1086 words
Summary:
MASSIVE SPOILERS THROUGH CHAPTER 86
The basement had always been Erwinâs most furtive, precious goal, and Levi would do whatever he had to to make sure he made it there.
Full disclosure: this is a shameless tragedy-averting canon divergence.
Written (late) for Erwin Smith Week Day 4: Canon Divergence
AO3 Link (Coming Soon!)
Read on Tumblr:
(A/N) I found out about this week so late and I am bitter. But I have been looking for an excuse to write this particular canon-divergence, so ta-dah! Something, at least. I hope to write something for the âAfterlifeâ theme as well, maybe just a day late, but weâll see how that goes.
Erwin was heavier--heavier than Levi had imagined a body, living or dead, could be. Perhaps his own fatigue, too, was playing a role. Whatever the exact reason, he had to force his feet to move forward through the dust of the Shinganshinan streets; had to fight to keep his shrieking spine upright, and his aching shoulders straight.
But Erwin had carried him many times--physically; metaphorically; emotionally. That was how the two of them had survived--supporting one another. If Levi were to let him fall now, he may as well let himself crumple, too, and never rise from beneath the body of his commander.
Just a little... farther...
Eren Jaeger should, by rights, be the one making this trek. But, in deference to a sacrifice made, the young soldier had lent his Corporal the priceless key and pointed the way. Levi was grateful for that. Mikasa Ackerman had looked less pleased, but she too understood; let him do what he felt he needed to do, and bowed her head as he departed. Hanji was capable of handling what was left of the Survey Corps and its newest titan shifter, when the boy woke.
So Levi had set off for the basement.
Just a bit... farther...
Muscles quivering, legs aching nearly unbearably, Levi stumbled down the steps toward the appointed room. The door was sealed, with a padlock the key around his neck didn't unlock. As Erwin's arm was draped over his left shoulder, Levi rammed his right against the deteriorating wood as hard as he could; repeated the motion once and then twice, until at last it splintered and gave. He staggered, off-balance, into the room, and found himself in what appeared to be a doctor's workshop.
This... is...
"Erwin..." he rasped, "we're here. Grisha Jaeger's basement. You made it."
Erwin's breath was still rattling in his chest; the sound of his wheezing was horrific in Levi's ear, but the Corporal didn't flinch from it. Instead he dragged himself a few steps farther, then let his commander slide off his back and onto the doctor's disused workbench, though careful as he eased Erwin's head down on the musty wood. Then he dropped to his knees, forehead resting against Erwin's right shoulder; the stump.
"You made it, Erwin..." he whispered, tears burning unshed behind his eyes; hand clenching into a fist on Erwin's broad, heaving chest.
After a moment in that grief-stricken posture, Levi dragged himself up and onto unsteady legs. Wavering, he stumbled toward the shelves of Grisha Jaeger's workshop. Though at first glance it looked like any other doctor's dwelling, there had to be more to it; there had to be some great truth hidden here that he could lay at Erwin's feet--that he could give to his dying commander.
The key thudding rhythmically against his chest had to unlock something.
"Erwin... Erwin, it's here... somewhere...
"... the truth."
There were two drawers--two locked drawers--on the side of the late doctor's desk. When Levi slid the key inside, they sprang open with a ready click. In one, beneath the false bottom, books--three old books wrapped in measures that guarded against bugs and mildew. Though intriguing, Levi glossed over them in favor of the second drawer.
There, beneath the identical false bottom, syringes.
Levi's dull eyes widened, the action causing the tears that had been brimming there to spill over. There were three, and they were labeled: crystallize, scream, and heal.
Heal.
Fumbling with the glass casing, Levi picked up the third with numb fingers. His eyes flickered to Erwin's wretched form, body still fighting for breath in a futile play for continued life; down to the syringe in his hand, only a vague, single-word label giving him any indication as to what it would do.
What should I do... Erwin...?
Levi's gaze found the books--the three books that undoubtedly held the secrets of the world that Erwin had so desperately sought; he looked again at Erwin, and knew beyond any shadow of doubt that he would never live long enough to hear all three read--if he could hear at all, which was doubtful if Levi was being honest with himself.
"What should I do... Erwin...?!"
Just above the jagged scar that marked the end of Erwin's right arm, Levi plunged the syringe into chilled flesh. His teeth grit, dark eyes blazing through the haze of tears that covered them, he knelt once again over Erwin's prone form.
"Live, damn it...! I can't read these alone... and you know it, you damn old fool...!"
... ... ...
There was heat--an incredible sense of heat, like being steamed alive but considerably less painful, and the sound of Levi's voice. Though the words were unintelligible, it was undoubtedly Levi's voice.
Erwin listened, content to exist in whatever state he had found himself in, until he began to make out isolated words in that lovely, familiar voice--sister... Eldia.. sorrow... devils... power...
Titans.
Erwin's chest heaved with a sudden and deep breath, and his eyes snapped open to a blurry wooden ceiling. Levi's voice didn't falter, but continued with startling clarity.
"... her death, Ymir's soul was spit into nine titans, who built the Empire of Eldia. Eldia was a great ancient nation that destroyed Marley and--"
"Levi?" His voice was hoarse, and Erwin tried to remember why. Levi's words paused. "What is that... that you're saying?"
His subordinate scoffed. "'Bout time you came to, old man. Guess this means I'll have to start all over again... tch, such a pain."
"What is it... you're talking about, Levi?" Erwin repeated. He struggled to look over at the dark shape beside him, the figure that could only be humanity's strongest soldier sitting near him, but he couldn't manage to move. He gave up, instead watching the steam rise from an unknown location at the lower edge of his vision.
"You'd better pay closer attention this time," Levi muttered, his voice unusually thick. "I'm not repeating myself again."
There was the sound of flipping pages; Erwin closed his eyes, wondering why he distinctly felt like he should be dead.
Ah well--it was a familiar feeling, anyway. And Levi's voice was a familiar voice, even if he didn't comprehend everything his subordinate was saying.
"Alright. I'll pay attention, Levi."
Levi made an odd choking sound, and Erwin felt fingers threaded between his. It took a surprising effort, but Erwin managed to flex his hand; hold Levi's, if slightly.
"Right..." Levi murmured gruffly, tightening his grip on Erwin's right hand. "I'll start... from the beginning, then."
School is taking a surprising amount of my energy, work is a constant time-suck, and this fucking novel is draining the life out of me! But I do plan on posting a couple of oneshots within the next couple of days, and I managed to get Hard Sought updated so I feel pretty good about that...
Fandom: Durarara!! Â
Characters/Ships: Shizaya/Izuo; Shizuo, Izaya, Harukahito (The Boy), Harumi (The Girl), Misc. Others Â
Rating: T Â
Length: Chapter 11/?; 3389 words
Summary:
SPOILERS through âThe Sunset with Izaya Oriharaâ Â
The way he was casually forcing his way back into Izayaâs life was both infuriating and befuddling, but the information broker couldnât bring himself to put up more than a token resistance.
He was in no condition, after all, to rekindle their fight to the death, and Shizuo Heiwajimaâs motivations remained, as they were, unclear.
AO3 Link Here
Read on Tumblr: (previous chapterâYou Are HereâComing Soon!)
(A/N) NEVER FEAR, I'M NOT DEAD. I'm sorry the update took so long. ^^;; It's also pretty short, but standard for earlier chapters of this fic, so...
Without further ado, onto Chapter 11 (also, the Holy-Hell-is-this-a-Family-AU-in-Disguise-Send-Help chapter)!
For three nights, Shizuo tried to sleep on the chair. For three nights, Izaya followed him out and curled up on his chest or by his side. On the fourth night, Shizuo returned to the bed. Rhoyo, after a couple days of being tied up in the closet of the guest room, agreed to leave town peacefully. Izaya closed the business deal with Akiko and Hibi.
Everything was once again on track.
Izaya crouched agilely atop an iron bar, hands gripping the metal and legs folded up beneath him. He was eyeing his next step, and launched himself suddenly forward.
"Oof...!" he huffed exaggeratedly, rolling head over heals across the wooden bridge on the jungle-gym. Harukahito yelped with excitement as he skidded to a halt beside him.
"This is called parkour," Izaya explained to him. "Agilityâthe goal is to get from one point to another as fast as possible, using nothing but your own body. The discipline was conceived and honed in an urban environment, so you'll rarely seen it used outside of cities."
"Wow!" the boy exclaimed, wide eyes shining. "And Izaya-san can do it?"
"Izaya-san can do it," the informant answered brightly. "I'll teach you too, Harukahito-kun! Here, grab hold of this ledge beside me... see? Brace your feet against the wall like... like... right, there, now keep a good grip on it. Now..." with a tremendous heave, Izaya pulled his body over the edge of the playground equipment, flipping over once and then twice before he landed, legs crumpling under him as he broke his fall with an effortless roll across the sand. "Try that!"
Harukahito obeyed without hesitation, although he gave a cry of alarm as he tumbled over the edge. Izaya lurched to catch him, bundling the boy into a tight embrace and then once again rolling across the sand.
"You'll get it in no time!" he chuckled, and Harukahito beamed up at him in excitement. "But you've got to work on your landing skills."
"Show me another move!" Harukahito begged, and Izaya heaved himself to his feet with an effort. He stumbled a bit on his way over to the jungle-gym, but as soon as he reached it he was able to steady himself. He pulled himself up onto the child-sized rock wall built along one side of the structure, motioning for Harukahito to follow him.
"Try this," he urged, offering a hand to the boy. But even as he helped Harukahito up, he relied heavily on the strength of his upper body to keep himself anchored. The boy scrambled; as soon as he was totally on the wall, Izaya used powerful shoulders to launch himself upward. The child gasped in surprise and awe.
"C'mon, keep up!" Izaya urged cheerfully, as Harukahito struggled to follow. Though Izaya's largely quadrupedal lope across the top of the jungle-gym might have impressed the casual observeâas it did Harukahitoâanyone who was paying close attention could tell he was trying hard to keep weight off his legs.
"Should he really be up and about like this?" Harumi asked dryly, from where she sat on a park bench. Shizuo, sitting beside her, shrugged.
"He looks happy, doesn't he? And Harukahito, too..."
The girl didn't reply, somewhat confused by this version of Izaya Orihara. She had always assumed he gauged things entirely in potential value to his own ends, but the simple fact was he already had Harukahito eating out of the palm of his hand. There was no need to invest such time in his relationship with her friend, and it confused the mistrustful girl.
"I'll be right back," Shizuo said abruptly, and Harumi spared him a glance. "Watch the stuff."
"Sure," she replied easily, but he had already dashed away. It was part of her function to look after Izaya's things, anyway. The abandoned wheelchair sat beside her, at the end of the bench.
You belong... trapped there. Someone like you.... doesn't deserve to walk.... or even live.
Yet as she watched the interactions between the object of her hatred and her dear Harukahito on the playground, she felt a shiver of uncertainty. Izaya seemed to be glowingâit wasn't an expression he wore with clients, or even when he was alone or bragging about his plans. It was a smile he showed only to Harukahito and Shizuo Heiwajima... and her, if Harumi let herself admit it.
"Here. You like ice cream, kid?"
The girl looked up in surprise to see Shizuo offering her a cone topped liberally with chocolate ice cream. He held an equally-overloaded cone in his other hand. "I saw the vendor, so..."
He ran off like that... to get ice cream...? Harumi reflected idly, even as she accepted the treat. He really is... a child. The frozen dessert was sweet and cool on her tongue, and she shivered slightly with pleasure. No wonder it's so easy to goad him...
"Are you still looking for your chance?" Shizuo asked gently.
The girl glanced sideways at him; didn't reply.
Shizuo lapped at his ice cream for a moment more before speaking again. "Are you trying to stop us from going to Ikebukuro? Or are you just going to keep biding your time, even after we move?"
Harumi shrugged; if he was going to be this frank, there was no harm in humoring him. "I haven't decided. Harukahito and I will have to survive on our own, after he's gone. We can't do that now, at least not here. But maybe I'll figure it out once we get to Ikebukuro."
"You don't want to end up on the street," Shizuo pointed out helpfully, taking an aggressive bite of his ice cream and then cursing at how cold it was.
Harumi ate away at hers more casually. "We won't. I know how to wring some resources out of Izaya-san before he's gone. I've heard there's an impressive colony of illegals living in 'Bukuro; maybe we'll stay with them until we're old enough to live on our own. Or we could pose as studentsâthere are students as young as thirteen living on their own there." Â
"You've thought it out," Shizuo commented.
"Of course." The girl hesitated, then admitted, "I've learned a lot by watching Izaya-san. When I make my move, it'll be his own techniques that destroy him."
Shizuo nodded thoughtfully. "To tell the truth, I really like the sound of that." When the girl looked over at him in surprise, Shizuo laughed. "I've told you, Izaya and I were enemies for a long time. I still think he deserves whatever comes out of the woodwork to bite him in the ass."
"But you'll try to protect him," Harumi coaxed, and was surprised again when the blonde shrugged and mumbled something noncommittal; he lapped some drizzled ice cream off the back of one of his hands before elaborating.
"Depends. If his life is in danger, yeah, of course. But the people he's hurt deserve their shot at him. I've already settled my score, but there are lots of people who haven't. So maybe I wouldn't stop him from getting punched in the face, under certain circumstances."
Harumi stared at him for a moment in shock, aware of a cool drip traveling down her wrist. When she'd gotten her composure, she wiped it absently on her slacks.
"And you claim to love him?"
"Like I said, of course I'd step in if he was in serious danger," Shizuo replied, then paused. "I don't know... maybe I'd act differently in the moment anyway. I might just protect him automatically. But he's pretty capable of taking care of himself, too. He might even choose to take a punch from certain people at this point, and there's some... nobility, I guess, to accepting the consequences of your actions. He's really trying to turn over a new leaf, you know. He was never like that, before."
"How do you know it's not just a phase?" Harumi asked softly. "Even if he's 'really trying' right now, how do you know it'll last? People like him... they sometimes lose interest when things get tough."
Shizuo nodded, although he gulped a chunk of ice cream that was threatening to fall before answering. Before he could, both their attentions were drawn by a yelp from the playground.
Harukahito, it appeared, had lost his grip on the monkey bars; Izaya was hanging precariously by one hand, the other looped around the boy's chest, and after a moment they both fell with a thunk and puff of sand. But both of them were also laughing, and exchanged cheerful words that were inaudible at that distance before Harukahito helped Izaya to his feet.
"I would agree," Shizuo began, even as he rose. "I would... I would think he was that type of person. He is that type of person. But things have already gotten tough, I think, and he hasn't..." The blonde trailed off; made a helpless motion with his free hand. Izaya looked like he was having trouble, even with a hand on Harukahito's shoulder as they made their way back across the sand. Shizuo abandoned the conversation, then, shoving what was left of his ice cream cone into his mouth and trotting over to help. Harumi, staring after him thoughtfully, also rose to get their things ready.
"You guys got ice cream?" Harukahito exclaimed, racing ahead once Shizuo had scooped Izaya up off his feet. The girl nodded.
"You can finish mine," she offered, passing it over and then taking up a position of readiness behind Izaya's wheelchair. When the two adults reached them, Shizuo put Izaya  gently down in the seat.
"Thank you, Shizu..." Izaya purred, holding the blonde close for another moment and kissing him sweetly. Harukahito made a face and laughed, but Harumi watched the interaction carefully.
Is this... really... Â
"Homeward!" Izaya announced happily, with a grand motion that was vaguely in the direction of their apartment. Harumi obeyed seriously, but Harukahito echoed up the cheer. Izaya, grinning, joined in, until they were both chanting, "Homeward! Homeward! Homeward!" in unison.
Shizuo didn't look entirely amusedâthat, if anything, made Harumi begin to smile.
... ... ...
"Shin-occhan! Good afternoon!" Harukahito waved wildly, leaning across Izaya's lap to get closer to the webcam. "Celty-oneesama, good afternoon!"
"Hey, Celty; Shin-chan," Izaya greeted them more calmly, and the doctor threw up his hands.
"I just don't get any respect, is that it? Okay, okay, I see how it is...!"
"Everything is good here," Celty responded, ignoring his theatrics. "Kadota-kun came over to visit, earlier."
"Aah, he's one I can't wait to see again!" Izaya exclaimed. "The look on his face... will be... priceless!"
"He'll threaten to go back into his coma, I'll bet," Shinra said authoritatively, nodding.
Izaya laughed. "That sounds like him."
"Hey, move that damn contraption," Shizuo grumbled, arriving at his shoulder with trays of food in-hand. Harumi was at his side, helpfully, with other table-settings.
"Right, right..." Izaya murmured, then rose with the laptop. It was a risk, during a live video-call, but Izaya felt relatively sure of himself. He placed the computer at the empty side of the table, facing inward; the two children sat smushed at one side, while Shizuo and Izaya settled in at the remaining two with a small hotpot set up between them all.
"I can't set up anything too big on this side," Shinra lamented. "It's just Celty and I here, you know, and of the two of us there's only one capable of eating!"
"Doesn't matter," Izaya said easily, relieved to be seated again. "We'll be there in person soon, anyway. Then we can share a hot pot properly."
"Are you going to take off your helmet when we meet you in person, Celty-oneesama?" Harukahito asked, dishing himself some rice and chicken.
"If you'd like," the dullahan replied. "Of course, Harukahito-kun."
Izaya tucked into his food as the child and the Headless Rider chatted idly, Shinra chiming in often. Harumi watched her guardian closely and Shizuo, across the table from her, chewed his way absently through his own food while he watched the girl.
Izaya's face was something to behold, his smile so tender and honest and candid, and Harumi couldn't figure out what might be behind it. Shizuo, watching her try and fail to dissect his motives, couldn't help but chuckle into his chopsticks. He caught Shinra's eye, through the webcam, and an amused understanding passed between them.
... ... ...
"There was no ulterior motive."
Harumi glared quietly at him, her hands buried in soapy water. Shizuo put the dish he was drying away in the cabinet.
"Shinra is his friendâhe'll back me up," Shizuo continued. "Izaya was happy tonight. You should try to be happy, too."
Harumi didn't react other than to glower more severely, handing him the next clean dish.
"Or you can strike out on your own, if you want."
The girl's eyes widened sharply, and she looked up at him; Shizuo's gaze were fixed thoughtfully on the cabinet as he stacked the plates.
"Hot pot uses so many dishes... I wish Izaya wouldn't insist on them so often."
"Don't just change the subject after saying something like that!" Harumi snapped; Shizuo looked at her, unimpressed.
"It isn't as though we were having a conversation. I was talking and you weren't. I didn't even know if you were listening, not for sure."
"Th-That's not the point!" the girl fumed. "You know we can't justâ"
"What's stopping you?" Shizuo cut her off, taking the plate she was holding gently and proceeding to dry it. "You're a capable kid. You could manage."
Harumi's face reddened. "I have other plans. I told you, I'll use Izayaâ"
"I know," Shizuo interrupted again, calmly. "You did tell me. This morning. So if you're set on seeing that through, stop complaining. Roll with the punches and see your plans through."
Harumi's nose scrunched. "Stupid," she scoffed. "You don't know what it's like to be stuck leeching off a man like him."
"Then un-stick yourself," Shizuo said simply. "Don't see your plans through, or do. But you should consider the fact that the situation has changed."
"It's changed because of you," Harumi hissed.
"I know. I don't regret changing it."
"Go die!" the girl sniffed, turning away and drying her hands. "Finish the dishes before you do, though."
Shizuo watched her with a vaguely annoyed look. "Izaya did some horrible things to you, but haven't you noticed he's been trying to make up for it? Even before I showed up, I'll bet."
"You're imagining things."
"He takes care of you."
"He uses us."
"He could hire people a lot more easily."
"Yeah, and then he'd have to pay them," Harumi quipped. "He's too cheep for that. We're low-risk, free labor to him, that's all."
"'Free labor?'" Shizuo echoed, then gave a short laugh. "Are you saying you don't eat? That you haven't been to the doctor since he took you in? That you came with all your clothes? And your cell phones? Are you saying that if you need something, Izaya doesn't buy it for you?"
"Wh-What else is he supposed to do?" Harumi spluttered. "That doesn't prove anything! That's just the bare minimumâ"
"Bare minimum, nothing!" Shizuo scoffed. "I know how he does things. He probably spoils you both rotten, where material things are concerned."
"So what?" Harumi spat back. "It isn't as if he doesn't have the money to spare!"
"Well, there goes your argument about 'free labor,'" Shizuo observed, leaning against the counter. "Kids are way more expensive than hired help."
"We aren't his kids," Harumi hissed.
"You may as well be, with how he behaves. That's how he shows affection, by the wayâby just casually, kind of secretly looking out for people. That's another thing you should ask Shinra about. He knows more about that side of Izaya than I do. Or his sistersâhe does the same thing with them."
"Go to hell," Harumi retorted, and Shizuo let out a heavy breath through his nose.
"Jeez, kid... no getting through to you, is there?"
"Just finish the dishes," the girl huffed, stalking quickly from the kitchen. But Shizuo, watching her go, was certain he'd at least given her something to think about.
If those two do come to Ikebukuro with us... and her attitude hasn't changed by then... we could be in for some trouble. Â
"Nice job, not snapping."
Shizuo groaned. "How the hell long have you been listening?"
"I don't like hearing my secret methods of showing affection described behind my back, Shizu-chan," Izaya said playfully, moving his wheelchair slightly into the kitchen. "It's shameful to be outed in such a way."
"She needs to realize certain thingsâlike the fact that you do care."
Izaya gave a put-upon sigh. "But they're secret methods of caring, obviously..."
Shizuo's hand flashed from beneath the sink water, spraying Izaya with droplets and suds. The information broker spluttered an objection, gasping about how he'd just gotten out of the bath and didn't need a shower on top of it.
And Harumi, listening from the other side of the door frame, wondered if she'd just heard an admission from Izaya's own lips that he did, indeed, care.
... ... ...
"Let's set a moving date, Shizu."
The blonde grunted with surprise, flexing his shoulders in an attempt to get comfortable. "Why this all of a sudden, Flea?"
"Because I want to go back."
It was darkâalmost too dark to see anything, with shades drawn and lights off and door closed. But Shizuo, when he opened his eyes, could barely make out the shape of Izaya's tousled hair. The weight on his chest, besides, gave him a very clear idea of where the information broker had chosen to lie. With a heavy sigh that moved Izaya up and then down, he let his head drop back onto his pillow.
"There's no need to rush it."
"I don't think we are. The doctor at physical therapy says I should be close to a hundred percent in a month or so."
"'Close to,'" Shizuo echoed, unconvinced.
"I love you, Shizu-chan." Izaya kissed his collar bone, even as the blonde beneath him stiffened. "I love you. Please say you'll come with me. Please say you'll come with me, even as soon as next month." His hands worked quietly at the buttons of Shizuo's nightshirt, and then his mouth made it's way from collar bone down to sternum. "Say you'll come with me, my beloved monster."
Shizuo sucked in a breath. "That's not fucking fair..." he muttered, closing his eyes tightly. "You already know the answer to that, you damn flea..." His back arched as Izaya nipped a sensitive spot, and he muttered a curse as he flipped their positions, pinning the smaller man to the bed.
"Kiss me, Shizu," Izaya invited, wrapping legs that were much stronger than they had been around Shizuo's hips. "Kiss me, but nothing more. That'll wait until we're back in Ikebukuro, understand?"
Shizuo gave an exasperated growl, even as he took full advantage of Izaya's invitation. "You don't play fair, god damn it..." he grumbled, mouth moving hungrily against Izaya's.
"Next month," Izaya murmured, though it was muffled by the grinding of tongues against one another.
"The first," Shizuo grunted.
Izaya chuckled, the sound vanishing down Shizuo's throat. "How about the twentieth?"
Shizuo lacked either the breath or the motivation to answer, grinding his body more harshly against Izaya's and making the information broker laugh as he was pushed farther into the mattress. His head was light for want of air, but he only kissed back more fervently; more lovingly. When at last they broke apart, both of them were gasping raggedly.
"Can I do it again?" Shizuo growled softly, his voice strained and his breath hot against Izaya's cheek. Izaya rolled his eyes.
"One more time. I swear, I'm going to spoil you rottâ"
Shizuo's kiss was sweeter, this timeâslow and tender; deliberate, and so sensual that Izaya arched involuntarily against him, eyes closing as he moaned into the kiss. For a wild moment he entertained throwing out his previous proposal entirely, but then smiled against Shizuo's pliable mouth.
"When we get back to Ikebukuro..." he whispered, and Shizuo nipped his lower lip in response.
Fandom: Durarara!!
Characters/Ships: Izaya/Shinra, past!Shinra/Celty, Shizuo/Celty; Shinra, Celty, Shizuo, Izaya, Shiki, more to-be-added
Rating: T (NEW WARNING: things get a bit steamy at the beginning of this chapter...)Â
Length: Chapter 6/?; 3178 words
Summary:
The information broker canât rest. It isnât just a matter of supporting himself anymore, after all.
AO3 Link
Read on Tumblr: (previous chapterâYou Are Hereâcoming soon)
(A/N) MEANWHILE, in this dysfunctional corner of Ikebukuro....
Izaya was woken by the weight of a body--by Shinra Kishitani climbing atop him, their hips resting against one another's. Instantly alert, Izaya pushed slightly against his chest.
"Shinra, what's--?"
"I want to repay you..." the doctor breathed against Izaya's mouth. "This is what you want most, isn't it?"
The kiss was hot and passionate; Izaya groaned with longing into it, feeling Shinra's living body moving against his; his most precious human's tongue grinding against his own. But he pulled back against his pillow, using one forearm across Shinra's breast to hold the doctor where he was.
"Orihara-kun?"
"Shinra, I--" Izaya began, his voice breathy. He could see, out of the corner of his eye, the dullahan's head resting on the pillow beside him--Shinra's pillow.
"Let me..." Shinra breathed cheerily, his hands pushing Izaya's nightshirt up. "This is what you want more than anything, isn't it? We're already living as a couple, for all intents and purposes... just like Celty and I were. For all intents and purposes, we're already lovers--just like Celty and I were. Let's consummate it... like Celty and I never did.
"What do you want? I'll do anything you want, Izaya. I'm not at all experienced, I'm afraid, but I'm sure I can figure it out. You'll instruct me, right?"
Izaya's chest heaved, his heart quickening to a frantic pace. His hips were trembling with arousal; with the desire to drive up against Shinra's roughly, to flip the doctor onto his back, to ravage him, to satisfy--
"Shin--!"
"?" The doctor, dipping his head for another kiss, made a curious sound. Izaya increased the resistance against his chest, pushing him back.
"Shinra, don't..."
The doctor crooned questioningly, shifting back. Izaya choked on what he was trying to say; struggled to get the words out.
"Not... not like this..."
Shinra's weight shifted almost entirely onto Izaya's hips as the doctor sat back further, waiting patiently for Izaya to explain. When the informant couldn't manage to speak again, he tilted his head forward slightly.
"Well I want to do something for you, Iza-kun. You've done so much for me recently, and you're a precious person to me, after all is said and done. Now that Celty's gone, you're probably the most precious person I have left."
Izaya choked slightly, the words "precious person" hitting him squarely in the chest. Slowly, carefully, he leaned up and wrapped his arms around Shinra's shoulders, hanging slightly off him until the doctor lowered himself again and they were lying together, chest to chest with Izaya's face buried in Shinra's neck.
Izaya Orihara had some experience with one-night stands; he had some experience with fuck-buddies; he had some experience with trading sex for favors or information, having been on both ends of those transaction.
But this...
"I love you so much, Shinra...
"Please... just lay with me. Nothing more than that... okay?"
Love was different from any of those other things, and Shinra was different from any of those other humans. There was the distinct sense, with Shinra, of wanting to do things right... and of wanting to make things last.
"Okay, Izaya-kun," the doctor answered willingly, shifting their bodies so that they were lying more sideways, still tangled in a strangely tight embrace. But Shinra matched Izaya's intensity, and so they stayed locked together. "If that's what you want."
... ... ...
When Izaya woke again, they were still intertwined; one of his arms was fast asleep, trapped beneath Shinra, and he could feel a deep ache in his hip due to the position. Shinra's eyes were open, and from the bright look of them the doctor had been awake for some time.
"Good morning, Izaya. Finally awake?"
"Finally awake..." Izaya groaned softly, and was surprised when Shinra pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.
"Good morning."
"... Morning, Shinra..."
The doctor sat up; stretched, then reached over to retrieve something from his pillow. It was then that Izaya realized that there had been no room in their embrace for the dullahan's head, and he felt a distinct sense of triumph. He too pushed himself upright, rubbing briskly at his arm until the rush of pins and needles subsided.
"If I take a shower first, I'll make breakfast while you're taking yours," he proposed, and Shinra nodded.
"Sounds good to me. I'll just wait here until you're finished." The head was on his lap again, and Izaya tried not to look at it.
"Good." After a moment of hesitation, Izaya leaned down and brushed back the shock of brunette bangs; kissed Shinra's forehead. The other boy hummed happily, stretching up slightly to meet the contact.
Izaya had always, if the truth was to be told, preferred long, luxurious baths to showers. But recently he'd flipped that entirely; he hadn't taken a bath since moving in with Shinra. A shower was much more efficient, for one thing--less time he had to spend away from his precious friend. For another thing, he'd discovered a strangely soothing quality in water washing over him--a washing away of stress and the tension in his muscles. It did precious little for the pain in his hip that morning, but he figured that was his own fault anyway.
"Let's consummate it... like Celty and I never did."
Izaya felt a shiver travel violently down his spine despite the hot water as he replayed the previous night in his mind. Shinra had been ready to...
"We're already living as lovers."
Excitement--arousal; both lust and love. Izaya had to still for a moment, leaning against the slick wall of the shower as his rational thoughts drowned, swamped by the recollection of the night before. But one thought brought him back down to earth.
The head had been sitting on his pillow, watching--it was always watching them through those softly closed lids.
And yet...
"... like Celty and I never did."
Izaya knew, objectively, that it wasn't because Shinra hadn't wanted to--Shinra had probably been ready to take that step with Celty for years. It had been the dullahan holding back; perhaps she had never been attracted to him in that way at all--that was a comforting thought. But this was a chance to get ahead of her, at least in some small way.
He was still competing with Celty Sturlson, no matter how he tried to avoid it, and that wore at him.
Giving himself a shake, Izaya finished thoroughly scouring his body and rinsed the suds from his skin. He emerged from the steamy shower feeling fresh and just a bit energized, thoughts of the previous night fading.
Shinra was, indeed, right where Izaya had left him. He rose automatically when the towel-clad informant passed him, carrying the head with him as he went to take his own shower. Izaya, after a moment of debate, donned a plush robe and slippers, then waited until he heard the roar of the water before slipping out toward the kitchen.
His feet, however, carried him to the balcony.
The rush of fresh air was welcome, and Izaya leaned far out over the railing to take in as much of it as he could. He missed the city; he resented his self-imposed captivity in the apartment. He wanted to fly among the buildings and chat with his beloved humans; he wanted to delve into the blood flow of Ikebukuro and escape his own limited existence in the tumult of life and emotion to be found there.
But Shinra Kishitani needed him. And whatever Shinra Kishitani needed, his best friend would see to--it had always been that way, if not openly.
Izaya heard the shower shut off before he had managed to tear himself away from the city air; that lent him urgency, though, and he scrambled to get breakfast ready. The tower of dishes in the corner mocked him as he dug new ones out from packing peanuts, then fumbled with some pre-made okonomiyaki and miso that Namie had dropped off. The Tupperware was especially stubborn, and he stuck his tongue out in concentration.
Where would I be-- the lid came flying suddenly off, sending broth and Tupperware careening across the floor, ... without that damn woman...? Izaya finished the thought with a sigh, staring down at the mess. The container had rolled to a lazy stop at the bottom of the dish-tower. Taking care of other people... doesn't suit me.
Before he could get too worked up over the accident, however, Izaya's cell phone rang. He had long since begun answering his work phones again--it wouldn't do, after all, to let his work grind to a halt. So he picked it up with little thought, honeyed greeting ready on his lips.
Minutes passed before Shinra emerged into the kitchen, barefoot and robe-clad, sparing a glance for the spilled miso but not commenting. "Izaya?"
The information broker held up one finger, phone still held against his ear. "Mmhm. Well... regrettable, yes, but... Yes. I've got it. See you." And he disconnected.
Izaya was generally unaccustomed to worrying about finances. Typically he could throw money around with what might appear to be reckless abandon--sometimes to a specific end and sometimes to none at all. But recent events had seen him take on Shinra's household expenses as well as cut back drastically on his most lucrative lines of work, if only for the sudden premium on his time. He had also just taken Namie Yagiri into employ--Namie Yagiri, who he certainly couldn't envision doing without at this exact juncture. What he was paying her was hardly a pittance--a conceited power-play that he was coming to regret.
He didn't know when the situation with Shinra would stabilize; he didn't know what unexpected expenditures could pop up at any given time. He had assets he could sell off--not the least of which being three apartments, none of which he was living in at the moment--but that might also raise alarms with anyone keeping an eye on his circumstances. His only long-term security--and therefore Shinra's long-term security--was in his clients.
He couldn't afford to lose clients.
"Who was that?" Shinra queried, lifting the dullahan's head slightly higher against his chest. Izaya waved him off.
"Don't worry about it. We'll eat breakfast first and talk later."
Shinra mopped up the spilled soup while Izaya fetched another container of it from the fridge and stuck it into the microwave; they sat, then, and ate slightly-spongy okonomiyaki and miso together. Few words were exchanged, but it was a comfortable silence.
"My contact within the Tsunohazu group won't finalize a certain deal without a face-to-face," Izaya said at last, setting his chopsticks deliberately across his empty bowl. Shinra's head tilted slightly.
"That shouldn't be a problem, should it?"
Izaya shook his head. "The meeting is set for tomorrow morning--10 am."
"I see..." Shinra murmured, taking a bite of okonomiyaki. Izaya regarded him thoughtfully through narrowed eyes.
"It shouldn't take me more than an hour or so, Shinra. Will you be okay on your own for that long?"
"Of course!" Shinra answered cheerfully, but then softened. "I won't do anything strange, Izaya-kun. I promise."
Izaya's eyes flashed with worry, and he forced them closed so that Shinra might not notice. "I'll hold you to that."
... ... ...
Izaya Orihara was unused to experiencing nerves, especially before a business meeting. But while he waited for his Tsunohazu contact to turn up at the appointed restaurant, he had to swallow two glasses of sake before his hands stopped shaking.
It wasn't the business that was bothering him, of course--it was thoughts of what Shinra might be getting up to, left alone.
Thinking it best to hide the fact that he had anything to be nervous about, Izaya ordered a pot of green tea and bade the waitress take away the sake glass when he saw his appointment approaching from across the street. He swished a mouthful of the tea to banish any scent of alcohol before rising to greet the man.
"Orihara-san," the man responded, shaking his offered hand. "We were beginning to worry."
"You've nothing to worry about, rest assured," Izaya responded, smoothing his coat as he sat down. He was a little off-center and felt the chair lurch a bit, but didn't think the man sitting down across from him had noticed. Maybe that second glass wasn't such a smart idea...
"So the deal is on?" the Tsunohazu man asked, helping himself to a glass of tea. "Tomorrow, right?"
"Tomorrow," Izaya confirmed. "Mr. K should be flying in around five o'clock in the evening, so the Awakusu shouldn't even have time to get in contact with him before the trade is made."
"'Shouldn't?'" the man echoed. "Or wonât?"
"Please," Izaya purred. "Have I ever let you down before?"
"..." The client looked uncomfortable, but didn't back down. "There's a lot of money on the line this time, Informant."
Izaya, more aware of his own financial affairs than usual, didn't feel he needed the reminder. But he checked himself before he snapped something coarse, wondering if the alcohol might have loosed his tongue as well as steadied his hands.
"It's no tremendous sum to me, you must understand," he said instead. "I see this amount of change move hands on a daily basis. But that doesn't mean I don't grasp it's significance to you," he added. "I'll handle this with the utmost care."
"Good," the client said, seeming placated. He drained the cup of tea he'd poured himself before standing; bowing brusquely. "Tomorrow, then."
"See you tomorrow," Izaya confirmed, more than a bit vexed that he'd be spending more time away from the apartment. "Drop by my place in Shinjuku with my slice of the proverbial pie at five. That'll leave us plenty of time."
"Alright," the man agreed, then excused himself from the table. Izaya sat still for a few minutes, catching his breath.
If I can get this taken care of before... no, I'll meet him at five, and then...
His cell phone rang shrilly.
Izaya jumped, momentarily frightened that the call was something to do with Shinra--a disaster, the hospital, the fire station, or Shinra himself calling with something entirely suicidal to say. But of course the number on the screen was exactly the number it should have been--the number Izaya was anticipating, but hadn't expected in his momentary paranoia. He took several deep breaths before answering.
"Yes? What can I do for you?"
"That tip you gave us regarding the Americans--it turned out to be true. Theyâre planning to sell to Tsuzuhara instead, behind our backs."
"I'm very aware," Izaya purred. "In fact, I've just had a meeting with one of the Tsuzuhara folks."
"Brilliant. Mind if I buy the location of the trade off you?"
"Not at all! I'm always at your service, dear Shiki. Such is my lot in life as a broker of information!" Izaya crowed, although again he wondered if it was the influence of the alcohol. "It'll cost you a bit more than usual, though."
"Well, at least my money's going to a good cause, right?"
Izaya's expression soured at the reminder--Shiki knew exactly what was going on, and exactly why he was asking for more capitol than usual. "No need to rub it in," he sneered lightly, glad he didn't need to stifle the grimace on his face.
"I'm not," Shiki answered simply. "It's the truth. I won't barter with you because I know, for once, you aren't just lining your own pockets or trying to gut mine for the fun of it."
Admittedly uncertain about how to reply, Izaya simply chuckled and put on a caustic front. "What a philanthropist you are, Shiki. Fancy yourself the Robin Hood of the yakuza nowadays, is that it? Since you're feeling so magnanimous, the location will cost you twelve bills today!"
"Alright," Shiki replied promptly.
Izaya's brow furrowed. It was an unreasonable sum--by his standards and by everyone else's. He kind of wanted to push further--to try to get a rise out of Shiki--but after a moment the desire faded.
"Ten bills, Shiki. At least barter with me a bit when I set the price that high. It's no fun otherwise, and you're one of the only people who can get away with it."
"Ten bills, then," Shiki said agreeably. "I'll drop it by the apartment tomorrow."
Izaya didn't like the sound of that, but the argument wasn't worth the effort to him. "Fine. See you then."
"Take care."
Feeling disgruntled and decidedly coddled, Izaya sat for a long moment with his dead phone still up to his ear. Then, slowly, he slid it into his pocket.
"Damn it..." he grumbled, getting to his feet and tossing enough cash onto the table to cover the bill. After a moment, he added a generous tip; it wouldn't do to change his habits and start people talking. Then, cramming his hands into his pockets, he trotted toward the door--mind turned homeward.
No sooner had he opened the cafe door, however, than he found himself face to face with Tom Tanaka and the blonde beast of Ikebukuro himself.
"Iza..." Shizuo began in surprise, then began again in a typical snarl. "IIiiizayaa...!"
Slapping a hastily-constructed sneer onto his face, Izaya skipped backwards. "I'd love today to be the day I finally stab your eyes out, Shizu, but I've got business elsewhere." The words came out a bit too fast, and he stumbled over the last couple of syllables. But he didn't let himself dwell on that brief embarrassment, instead turning on his heal and hopping atop one of the cafe's outdoor tables, meaning to then use a streetlamp as leverage to leap up the side of the building and vanish over its rooftop. It was an easy maneuver; one he was confident in.
What he never expected was to feel his body lurch; to lose his orientation completely and find himself falling; to smack painfully, face-first, into the concrete pavement. His first thought was that Shizuo had thrown something or otherwise attacked, but when he saw the blonde's stunned expression he made a startling realization: his foot had simply missed the streetlamp completely.
I just... fell.Â
Scrambling to his feet, he forced a grin and darted away on level ground--down an alleyway. To his relief, Shizuo didn't give chase. When he was confident he'd escaped successfully, Izaya paused to catch his breath against the brick wall of a liquor shop.
That was way too close... he thought shakily, pulling out his phone; dialing a number. He's just lucky... that it was Tom and not that damn Celty Sturlson with him...
If he'd seen the two together, those two unforgivable, inhuman cancers living in his beloved city, he knew he would have picked the fight. And he knew, similarly, that he would have lost. His steps were heavy as he started back home at a much slower pace.
I have ways... they'll both wish they'd never existed to begin with...
"Aah, yes," he crooned, when his call was picked up. "Yes, that's right. And I'd like to call in a favor you lovely folks owe me... Won't you fetch me your boss?"
Fandom: 91 Days Â
Characters/Ships: Angelo and Corteo, readerâs call if its gen or shippy <3
Rating: T Â
Length: oneshot; 1427 words
Summary:
In which Corteo brings home a stray cat and Angelo resists it with every scrap of grumpiness he can muster.
AO3 Link (Coming Soon!)
Read on Tumblr:
(A/N) So last Friday. I hadnât watched the new episode yet but I thought it would be a fantastic idea to just look at the title... and Fridays are my cat-shelter nights, so... this was what I wrote to soothe my frazzled nerves. Just now got around to editing it into something post-able.
Also, ever since I saw this post relating 91D to Hamlet, I havenât been able to shake the association. orz
This is my first foray into this fandom, but I do have at least two more fics in the works for it! Stay tuned, if you wish, and feel free to drop 91D prompts into my inbox~
"Put it back."
"Back out into the rain, you mean?"
"Put it back where it came from--if that's 'out in the rain,' then so be it."
"Angelo..."
At the plaintive appeal of his name, Angelo Lagusa made his fatal mistake: he looked up from his book. He was warm and comfortable, legs crossed where he sat in his oversized chair beside the fireplace; he had his nice copy of Hamlet in-hand and a cup of coco on the table beside him.
The sight of his roommate, wet and bedraggled and with an equally-wet-and-bedraggled cat in his arms, melted his resolve like sugar in hot coffee.
"Do what you want," he relented, entirely too easily. Corteo beamed a relieved smile at him.
"Thanks, Angelo! I promise, I'll get him cleaned up first-thing!"
"'Cleaned-up?'" Angelo echoed in confusion, but his eyes widened sharply as the cat--seemingly without provocation--flailed to life in Corteo's arms and sprang free. The young man yelped as claws sliced him, and Angelo watched in something a bit more dignified than abject horror as the extremely muddy feline streaked around their living room.
Corteo gave an alarmed squeak and stumbled after the animal; Angelo, likewise, sprang to his feet as the cat barreled across their coffee table, scattering ashtrays and knickknacks. Corteo made a grab for it and missed, his momentum carrying him forward toward a full-on somersault. Angelo lurched to catch him, thrusting his roommate a bit roughly down into the chair he had occupied moments before--out of harm's way--as he made a wild leap for the cat, heading off it's attempted escape into the bedroom and pouncing.
"Are you okay?" Corteo asked dazedly from where he sat, straightening his glasses frantically. And Angelo, although splattered with mud and struggling to keep the squirming cat contained on his lap, nodded.
"Fine. But Corteo..."
"Hmm?"
"Put it back."
"Angelo...!"
... ... ...
Though his tone had been severe, Angelo's ultimatum wasn't taken seriously. Corteo took possession of the flustered cat. Angelo was left to do what he could about the state of the living room while his roommate vanished into the bathroom with feline in tow. Then, with the sound of running water providing a background of white noise, Angelo returned to his book.
Corteo emerged nearly an hour later, towel-wrapped burrito of a cat in-hand. He approached Angelo slowly.
"See? Doesn't he look so much better, now?"
Angelo didn't bite. The cat, which he had originally taken to be a brown tabby, was almost pure white. It's creamy fur, while still spiked and damp, looked soft to the touch. "Keep it away from me."
Corteo wilted a bit, but he still shrugged and smiled. "At least it isn't 'put it back,' now," he said lightly, and Angelo focused pointedly on his book. His head snapped up, however, when Corteo set the cat gingerly on the floor. "I'm going to start dinner--you two get along, now."
"Don't leave it here with me...!" Angelo tried to object, but his roommate had already vanished into the kitchen and closed the door. The cat had set to grooming itself busily as soon as it wriggled free of the towel, and Angelo stared at it for a moment. Then, with a cross huff, he brought his book back up and pledged to ignore the creature entirely.
The cat didn't push its luck, devoting itself entirely to its grooming.
"I haven't gotten a chance to go to the store for cat food, yet," was the simple response as Corteo, unfazed, fed the cat another scrap of chicken off his plate. Angelo shoved another bite of his own diner in his mouth sorely. "What should we name him?"
"I'm not participating in this."
"I like 'Vito,'" Corteo continued, "or maybe 'Harry!' But I want your input, Angelo."
"Corteo."
"Or maybe Oliver, like Oliver Twist?"
"Corteo, stop."
"You like literary references."
"Corteo."
The cat, momentarily forgotten, had begun nibbling at the food on the edge of Angelo's plate. When the human noticed it he grimaced, then motioned as if it proved every point he wanted to make.
Corteo only chuckled. "He doesn't even have a name yet and he's already making himself at home."
Angelo rolled his eyes. "That isn't a good thing, Corteo."
But he didn't exactly move to shove the cat away, and that fact wasn't lost on his glowing roommate.
... ... ...
An uneasy truce was established--Angelo had his spots, and the cat had his. If the feline made the mistake of sitting on Angelo's chair or bed, he would be chased off, but he was free to roam most anywhere else. Corteo liked to use spare shoelaces as cat toys, which was probably a mistake, but Angelo tolerated having his feet swiped at with laudable patience. The cat seemed to know, instinctively, which lap was safe to curl up in--he spent considerable time on Corteo's, but never attempted the same with Angelo.
Corteo did come home one day, however, to find the cat curled up on the ottoman at Angelo's feet. He smiled when he noticed his roommate was barefoot, one set of toes slowly, rhythmically brushing along the cat's flank. He was about to make his presence known when, suddenly, Angelo began to speak softly.
"I would not hear your enemy say so, nor shall you do my ear that violence to make it truster of your own report against yourself. I know you are no truant. But what is your affair in Elsinore? We'll teach you to drink deep ere you depart."
He paused.
"I prithee do not mock me, fellow student. I think it was to see my mother's wedding."
There was a beat, and Angelo looked up from his book at the cat at his feet. Then he continued, quiet but impassioned.
"Thrift, thrift, Horatio! The funeral bak'd meats did coldly furnish forth the marriage tables. Would I had met my dearest foe in heaven or ever I had seen that day, Horatio! My father- methinks I see my father."
A beat; the cat yawned.
"In my mind's eye, Horatio."
"'Horatio?'" Corteo stepped farther into the room, then chuckled as Angelo jumped. "Is that what we're calling him?"
Angelo, flustered, snapped his book shut and drew his legs in, crossing them defensively as the cat stretched a lazy paw after them.
"He was reading Horatio's lines."
Corteo raised an eyebrow. "He was reading Horatio's lines?" he echoed thoughtfully. "Was he, now?"
"You weren't home," Angelo huffed. "I've told you Shakespeare is better spoken than read."
Smiling, Corteo abandoned his teasing to approach and seat himself on the arm of Angelo's chair. His roommate yielded willingly, though still averting his eyes. Corteo observed that he had his nice, leather-bound Hamlet in his lap, while a more tattered paper copy sat open in front of the cat. Reaching forward, he picked up the later.
"Well, I'm home now. Since you've already got a Horatio, shall I read for Claudius? I've really been working only evil step-father voice."
Angelo's answering smile was warm, although he still looked duly embarrassed at being caught. "Right. I would love to hear that."
Corteo smiled, and accepted when Angelo offered him his cup of cocoa. He took a sip before passing it back, and Angelo nodded in satisfaction before taking a drink himself.
âWeâre in the middle of scene one.â
âI know. Horatio had it open to the right page, you know.â
Angelo scowled slightly, but only cleared his throat before delving into the play, right where heâd left off. And Corteo could only smile, appreciating the fact that the cat finally had a name.
Horatio fell asleep mid-way through the second act.
Fandom: Durarara!!
Characters/Ships: Shizuo/Celty, past!Shinra/Celty, Izaya/Shinra; Shinra, Celty, Shizuo, Izaya, Tom, more to-be-added
Rating: T Â
Length: Chapter 5/?; 2046 words
Summary:
First he was running late and now heâs unexpectedly early... and then thereâs this matter of âa scene straight out of a chick-flickâ that Tom-san keeps talking about, and Shizuo really just wants to get on with his day-job.
AO3 Link
Read on Tumblr: (previous chapterâYou Are HereâComing Soon)
(A/N) Lookie-lookie, new chapter! Sorry for the delay. ^^;; This is the next Shizelty part, and Iâll be sure to post itâs IzaShin counterpart some time tomorrow. <3 Thanks for sticking with me! ;w;
"Shiiit!"
Celty was woken not only by the shout, but by a sharp pain in her ankle and a tremendous crash. Bolting upright on her futon, the first thing she realized was that the house was still dark, save for the light slanting in through the curtains. The second thing she realized was that Shizuo had apparently tripped over her feet--the pain she had felt--and subsequently careened headfirst into the coffee table--the crash she had heard.
"Shit, Celty, I'm sorry...!" came his hasty apology, gasped between grit teeth. "Shit, and here I was trying not to wake you..."
Celty found she could only laugh, standing as Shizuo scrambled to pick himself up. She could see, in the dim light, that he was halfway dressed, and as she watched he stumbled back towards his bedroom.
"Sorry!" he called again. "I'm fucking late, wouldn't you know? I fell back asleep after my stupid alarm went off!"
Shaking off whatever sleepiness still clung to her shoulders, Celty moved to draw the curtains; when Shizuo appeared again he was blinking disorientedly, shoes in one hand and tie undone around his neck. His hair was slightly wet.
"Sorry," he muttered again, even as he hurried over to the table to grab his wallet. "Was just moving too fast for my own damn good."
"Hang on," Celty scribbled hastily, and when Shizuo didn't see it she grabbed his shoulder. Although supremely agitated, undoubtedly about the time he was losing, the blonde paused to read her next words. "I can give you a ride, you know. That'll save you a few minutes, won't it?"
Shizuo blinked, some of the tension draining from him. "You'd do that?"
"Of course!" Celty replied, bewildered as to why he would even question it. "Just give me a moment to change and I'll be set to go."
When Celty reemerged, Shizuo had gotten his shoes on and was halfway into a cigarette; he ground it out quickly in a handy ashtray when she appeared.
"Are you sure?" he asked, expression some strange mixture of meekness and mistrust. Celty, fixing her helmet into place, nodded.
"It isn't as if I have anything else to do," she said. "Even if I did, of course I'd do anything I can to help you out. We're friends, right? And you're doing so much for me, as it is."
"None of that has anything to do with this..." Shizuo muttered, and Celty wondered why he was acting the way he was. Still, she retrieved Shooter from his corner of the living room and guided him calmly out onto the catwalk.
"You'll just have to give me directions," she held up, and Shizuo nodded sullenly as he followed. They stayed on-foot until Celty had gotten Shooter down the stairs, much to the fascination of several nosy neighbors, and then mounted the bike. Shizuo's grip around Celty's waist was surprisingly light.
"Yeah, um... head that way, I guess."
Kicking her bike to life, Celty joined the flow of traffic with little trouble. If anything, it felt good to be back out on the streets of Ikebukuro.
I have been rather... cooped up in Shizuo's apartment, haven't I?Â
The trip took a surprisingly short amount of time, and Tom wasn't even at their meeting place by the time the pair arrived. Shizuo hopped off of Shooter, stretching his back.
"Damn... that was like, nothing." He chuckled. "Now I'm early."
"You didn't have breakfast, did you?" Celty held up. "There's a cafe right on the corner, and I'll stay a while if you want some company."
Shizuo's eyebrows arched, but he shrugged. "Sure. That'd be fine, I guess." He trudged off to retrieve something from said cafe, and Celty was left to lean against Shooter as she enjoyed the breeze; the engulfing sounds of the city streets.
Her familiar nickered affectionately, and she stroked his handlebars.
"Right..." Shizuo murmured, when he'd returned. "Sorry I couldn't get you anything."
Celty held up her hands, amused by his constant fretting over such things. They sat side-by-side on the edge of a planter, in relative silence, Shizuo munching on a breakfast pastry and Celty content with the company of him and the city around her. A few passersby spared them a glance, but they were otherwise left in peace. Their shared silence was comfortable; peaceful, and the spare time passed easily.
Eventually checking the clock on his cellphone, Shizuo drained the last of his coffee-laced milk and crumpled the cup. "Well, Tom-san should turn up any minute, now," he said, then turned to Celty. "Thanks. For the ride and for staying, I mean."
"Any time," the dullahan held up brightly. But something caught her eye before Shizuo could get up, and she motioned for him to hold still. His tie still hung undone beneath his collar, and Celty leaned forward to fix it without much thought. Shizuo froze beneath her hands, and she noticed the skin of his neck take on a rosier hue than normal.
"You don't have to..." he muttered, but she shook her helmet. Hands occupied, she couldn't replied properly until she'd finished her task.
"It's no trouble, really! Have a good day at work, okay?"
"Okay..." Shizuo mumbled, then held up a hand to return her wave as she hopped onto Shooter's back. A moment later she was gone, vanishing into the flow of Ikebukurian traffic.
... ... ...
"Care to explain that little exchange?"
Shizuo jumped, realizing belatedly that he was being watched. Tom Tanaka approached him with a swaggering walk; a toothy grin.
"Is that why you wanted a spare futon? And here I thought you accidentally broke your bed or something like that."
"She needed a place to stay," Shizuo said gruffly, trying not to appear flustered as he ducked his head. "I'm her friend. Of course I stepped up."
Tom sniggered. "In all the time I've known you, I never pegged you for such a player. Good for you!"
"Hey!" Shizuo snapped, though not with a dangerous flaring of temper--just an average defensiveness. "She just got out of a really shitty relationship. I'm not... I mean, she probably wouldn't look twice at someone like me, anyway. I'm just being a good friend."
"She was <i>fixing your tie</i>," Tom stated. "That was like a scene out of a chick-flick, man."
"Neither of us are thinking like that, okay?" Shizuo insisted. "She was just being nice. She's a nice person." A very nice person; sweet, kind... tender and compassionate. Intelligent. Brave. Skilled. Trustworthy. <i>Gorgeous</i>.
<i>"You're so fucking desirable it's almost not fair!"</i>
Shizuo's face grew hot as he remembered saying that the day before, and he suddenly clapped a hand across his mouth. Tom, though not privy to the memory, grinned even more gleefully. <i>Shit. Shit, I almost...
I don't want to fuck this up.</i>Â
"Listen..." he said aloud, partially to Tom and partially to himself. "She's not... I mean, I'm not some asshole who goes for the rebound, you know? She's having a hard time, and I'm not going to make it any harder. Besides, I'm not about to fuck up our friendship. And besides <i>that</i>, she deserves someone way better than me, okay?"
"Whatever you say," Tom said listlessly, with a shrug. His boyish grin made it clear he wasn't convinced, but he also knew better than to press the matter. He could get away with <i>some</i> amount of teasing, but he wasn't so entirely immune to Shizuo's anger that he would take any chances. So he began walking; motioned. "C'mon, then. Work awaits."
Shizuo, recovering himself, nodded. But, even as he followed, he caught himself gazing back the way that Celty had disappeared.
<i>I'm... lucky,</i> he told himself firmly, a hesitant pleasure warming his chest.He pulled a cigarette from his vest pocket as he followed Tom. <i>She's a great friend. I'm really lucky to know her.</i>Â
... ... ...
Being out that morning had stirred something in Celty, and that same evening she held up a statement for Shizuo to read.
"I'm going to go back to work."
The blonde's head fell to the side as he looked at her. She felt her shoulders shake slightly with laughter at his questioning expression.
"It's only fair that I start paying you some form of rent."
"You don't need to," Shizuo rumbled, blinking honestly at her. "We're friends. Besides, it's not like you're even costing me anything. You don't eat. I bummed the spare futon off Tom-san--he wasn't using it. It's not like the extra water you use to shower is making my bills any worse or anything. And you did me that favor this morning, anyway."
Again Celty laughed silently. His denial that she needed to pay him any rent was based in simple fact--of course.
"It's not just that," she wrote out. "I'm living here, aren't I? I should be contributing."
"I can... yeah, I know exactly how you feel," Shizuo admitted, sitting back beside her. They were almost close enough to touch. "I would feel the same way. But I've still got to tell you that you don't have to. If you want to for yourself, go ahead, but don't do it on account of me."
Celty felt her shadows billow with pleasure at his blunt brand of thoughtfulness. "I know. Thank you, Shizuo. But I'll really feel much better. Besides, it's about time I get off this couch and do something productive again."
"Okay," Shizuo replied simply, then glanced over again. "Are you going back to courier work?"
"That IS what I'm good at."
"It's dangerous though, right?" Shizuo pressed. "I know you can handle yourself, but this is your chance to look for something else, if you want."
"Working in the underground is the only thing I CAN do," Celty replied, not entirely bothered by the fact. "I mean, who else would hire a mysterious motorcyclist who never took off their helmet?"
"I would ask Tom-san if we need more help where I work..." Shizuo murmured, then growled good-naturedly, "but you're too damn soft-hearted for that sort of job. You'd believe all the stupid stories."
"Not ALL of them!" Celty objected. "Maybe some... sure..."
"Not a good line of work for you," Shizuo decided, then reached over for his cigarettes. He took the time to light one and take one long drag before continuing. "I think you'd make a good teacher. Or a traffic cop."
Celty's shadows spluttered in surprise, but then she bumped her shoulder against Shizuo's. He chuckled throatily and gave her a brief, sideways hug.
"What? I'm being serious, you damn woman..."
But then he withdrew physically; stood; stretched. Again Celty found herself noting the rippling strength in his lean limbs, hidden beneath the thin layer of black and white clothing. As he relaxed, she averted her gaze and pulled out her new cellphone. She had had a bit of money on her when she had left, and she had used a chunk of it to buy a cheep, prepaid phone. The one that Shinra gave her had been thrown off an arching freeway after Izaya had tried to contact her on it.
Her PDA, however, stayed stowed in her shadowy clothes--turned off, perhaps never to be turned back on, but still kept safe on her person.
After a brief flip through the contacts she had transferred into the small phone, Celty selected one. Most of her jobs had come through Shinra or Izaya, and without either of them as an option there was only one person she trusted enough to reach out to.
"Shiki-san? It's Celty. I'm sorry for being out of communication... I was wondering if you might have work for me."
The Awakusu executive was a man of reasonable integrity, considering his profession; he was also a family friend of the Kishitanis, and knew about her situation in as much detail as anyone outside of her immediate circle.
"Celty-san," was the response, "I'm glad to hear from you. In fact I do, and I'd be happy of your dependable skills."
Celty's shadows billowed with satisfaction. "Perfect! Just send me the details, as usual."
"Right. They're being finalized tomorrow morning, so I'll call you then."
My writing class finally started up last night and I am SO EXCITED. My instructor is as incredible as I remember (ofc), I super canât wait to read all the awesome things my classmates are writing (I think Iâm even making friends??), Iâm so nervous but incredibly stoked to get some solid feedback on the novel Iâm working on (that I accidentally took a break from all summer, whoops), and as the icing on the proverbial cake thereâs this literally precious old woman in my class whoâs the funniest thing.
Updates might get a bit sporadic here because I'm more focused on original stuff, but please please don't hesitate to drop a prompt or a "please update x-y-or-z" in my inbox (I trust you guys not to do it in the obnoxious "updateupdateupdate" way ;w;) to hopefully keep me active!
I thought along with Fanfic Rec Day itâd be a good idea to start up an ask meme for writers so they can gush about writing and words and everyone can have a platform to ask writers some burning questions about their work.
Be proud and spread word about your hard work all around, writers! Todayâs a day for all of us to appreciate you and your efforts : )Â
What is your favorite fic you have under your belt?
What is your favorite snippet of dialogue?
What inspired [insert fic]?
Do you prefer writing long or short fics?
Whatâs your favorite headcanon you use in fics?
Whatâs the detail you wait on bated breath for readers to notice?
How much do you like symbolism in your fics?
How often do people catch onto your little details?
Whatâs the fic you like the least?
What would you change if you had it all to do again?
Whatâs a fanfic idea you havenât done yet?
Whatâs the hardest thing to write for you?
Do you have a favorite character to write for?
Whatâs your favorite shipping fic youâve written? Favorite gen fic?
Fandom: Durarara!! Â
Characters/Ships: Shizaya/Izuo; Shizuo, Izaya, Harukahito (The Boy), Harumi (The Girl), Misc. Others Â
Rating: T Â
Length: Chapter 10/?; 7771 words
Summary:
SPOILERS through âThe Sunset with Izaya Oriharaâ Â
The way he was casually forcing his way back into Izayaâs life was both infuriating and befuddling, but the information broker couldnât bring himself to put up more than a token resistance.
He was in no condition, after all, to rekindle their fight to the death, and Shizuo Heiwajimaâs motivations remained, as they were, unclear.
AO3 Link Here
Read on Tumblr: (previous chapterâYou Are Hereânext chapter)
(A/N) Not entirely sure how I feel about the last chapter, in reterospect. But I think Iâve got my shit together in this chapter, tb100%h. I hope you guys enjoy tit!
"Ow-ow-owww...! Shizu-chan, it hurts, it hurts...!"
"Do you want me to stop?" the blonde asked; his eyes were clear and earnest, and Izaya was fairly certain he didn't realize how hard he was pressing down.
Domestic captivity was not a thing that suited Shizuo Heiwajima. He didn't have much, save for Izaya's physical therapy and household chores, to pour his efforts into. For someone as virile as him, that meant a lot of unspent and bottled up energy. Izaya had wondered if he should suggest the blonde get a job of some sort after all, but since he'd insisted so vehemently that money wasn't an issue he didn't really want to reopen that discussion. Furthermore, the chances of Shizuo causing a scene in any sort of workplace were simply too high--and in a city where he was relatively unknown, Izaya would rather keep it that way.
But, as it was, it was common to see Shizuo pacing for minutes or hours, often in circles around the living room. He would redo chores, especially those that the kids had already attended to--not to mention the fact that he would put altogether too much strength into everyday tasks, sometimes breaking things as a result. Izaya had even caught him, just once, picking a fight with Harumi out of nothing more than sheer boredom.
The other unfortunate result was that he was a lot rougher with Izaya himself. Though it had been nearly a month since he'd snapped in earnest, he often showed flashes of temper or violence, a thing that still frightened Izaya--understandably, although his fear had lessened after he made the connection between the behavior and the lack of stimulation.
"Just a little less, please...!" Izaya whimpered, and the pressure on his leg eased. His chest heaved with a relieved sigh as the pain in his hip dulled. He could still feel the stretch, and it still ached, but it no longer felt like his joint was being separated. "Better... that's good, Shizu-chan, right there..."
At the given moment, Shizuo was crouched over Izaya Orihara, pressing one of the informant's legs up as far as it would go against his chest. It was one of a dozen or so stretches the physical therapy office had instructed him to help Izaya with on days he didn't have an appointment, and he was taking the duties as seriously as ever. After the designated thirty seconds, he let the limb relax again and picked up it's counterpart, meaning to repeat the exercise.
There was a small tap at the open bedroom door.
"Izaya-san?" It was Harumi, unfazed by the scene before her. "Ekata-san is on the phone."
"Bring it i-i-iiin...!" Izaya's order ended in a gasp as Shizuo proceeded to bend his limb up, informant business be damned. "Ow...! Too hard, Shizu, too hard...!"
"This is the same amount of pressure as I was--"
"Too hard, Shizu-chan!" Izaya yelped, kicking out with his free leg. The blow missed entirely, and Shizuo didn't move.
"Just bear with it. It's supposed to hurt a little, isn't it?"
Izaya groaned and let his head fall back onto the pillow. "Right, right..." he sighed, realizing that it wasn't as painful as he had thought--it had simply caught him off guard. "This is good, you're right..." Then he motioned to Harumi, who was watching impassively from the doorway. "Bring me the phone, Dear. I'll talk to her now."
The girl nodded, then vanished out into the living room. Izaya hissed as Shizuo eased his leg down again.
"You want to stop for a few minutes, then?" the blonde asked, but Izaya shook his head.
"We can keep going. It's just a stupid business call." It was an important business call. He had to play his cards right or the whole situation might blow up in his face. He had set up a few very unpleasant things between the two rival gangs, but he no longer wanted to play party to an urban war; he had bigger plans. But with Rhoyo now asking him to ignite a skirmish... he had to be careful that he was backing the right side in things. He was still at the service of his clients, after all, as was the lot of an information broker, especially one who was currently trying to keep his business as on the up-and-up as he could manage.
But he also couldn't bear to disappoint Shizuo by putting the exercises on hold, no matter how short a pause it was.
"Whatever you say..." Shizuo murmured, then ordered, "Flip over onto your stomach, then, for this next one."
Izaya obeyed, even though it was a bit of a breathy struggle, and managed to get situated just as Harumi returned with one of his cell phones. He had a habit of leaving the kids, especially Harumi, to act as receptionists while he was otherwise occupied.
"Flat," Shizuo growled, as Izaya tried to get up onto his elbows to accept the phone. A powerful hand appeared in the small of his back, forcing him down onto the mattress and leaving him struggling to find a position he could hold the phone in.
"Ekata-san?" His voice was a bit strained. "It's me. Is there a problem?"
"Not that I know of, Informant," the woman replied. "But that's why I've employed you--to keep an eye on potential problems, like that Taka man Rhoyo."
"Ah, him... yes, does seem like a bit of a live wire, doesn't he? You can never--ow, ow, owww!" Izaya trailed off with a tremendous yelping as Shizuo lifted his leg a bit too high, and the way he wrenched himself around only made it hurt more. "Warn me when you're going to do that!"
"You're supposed to keep your knee locked," was Shizuo's grumbled retort, and Izaya spat furiously at him.
"And you aren't supposed to tear my damn hips apart, you beast!"
"Is this... a bad time?" Ekata asked, from the near-forgotten cell phone. Izaya hissed again in frustration, trying to scrape together some semblance of dignity.
"No, no, not at all... I was just engaged in something when you happened to call, that's all."
"I'm going to try this again," Shizuo announced, and Izaya slammed the phone down onto the bed before snapping a response.
"You will not! Wait until I get off the phone, at least!"
"You said we could keep going," Shizuo replied critically, and Izaya gave an exaggerated roll of his eyes.
"Clearly I didn't anticipate how rough you were going to be," he grumbled, all thoughts of disappointing the blonde long-gone as he returned the phone to his ear. "Just hold off for five minutes, would you? Can you have just that much patience without pouting like a child?"
"If this is a bad time, I can call back," Ekata said, this time sounding a bit uncomfortable.
"It's not a bad time," Izaya insisted with forced cheer.
"I know what it's like to have a lover's tryst interrupted by a business call," Ekata offered. "It's uncomfortable for all parties involved, you know. I can call back."
"It's not--! No, no, that's not it at all," Izaya tried to laugh, but he was too horrified to quite manage it. "I can see how this might be misconstrued, but that's not it at all."
Though it was clear she didn't quite believe him, Ekata seemed to shrug and move on despite it. "Whatever you say. If you insist, then, this business about Rhoyo..."
"Yes, yes, Rhoyo-san..." Izaya said, relieved to be back onto the topic at hand. Shizuo, true to his suspicions, was pouting at the bottom of the bed. "Unpredictable, that one."
"This deal on Saturday is essential for stabilizing relations between our two groups," Ekata continued. "I wouldn't put it past a dissenter like him to try to disrupt it."
"So you want me to watch him," Izaya guessed.
"Almost. Not quite."
"Oh?"
"I want you to make sure he doesn't live to see Saturday."
Izaya felt a shiver run up his spine; he hadn't expected the head of Hibi to go quite that far, but he'd known the woman had a ruthless streak. Still, it put him in an even more uncomfortable position then he'd been in before.
"I'm not really a gun for hire, Miss. With all due respect."
"Information can kill just as surely as any gun," Ekata replied reasonably. "It shouldn't be hard to ensure someone with as many enemies as he has dies in a timely fashion."
"Still, it's a bit beyond my job duties," Izaya tried again, and to his surprise the client agreed.
"You're right about that, and I'm glad you brought it up. We're prepared to triple your last payment, if you can come through in this matter. Additionally, you'll get paid the usual amount if you simply keep Rhoyo away from the deal on Saturday or run him out of town. Once Saturday has passed, we'll be able to take him out using more conventional means, anyway."
"How can I say no to that?" Izaya asked, sitting up a bit straighter. He was unaccustomed to being swayed by capitol alone, but the amount he was being offered for a single job was nothing to sneeze at. It would certainly make his life a lot easier for a good while, and perhaps even last until the time came to leave for Ikebukuro.
"You can't. Or shouldn't, rather--you're free to make whatever choices you want. We'll probably still employ you in the future, regardless of how this whole thing turns out. Unless you end up backing the other side, of course. But, as an impartial broker of information, I wouldn't... expect that of you."
Additionally, Ekata was a smart woman. Left to figure which group to back, Izaya couldn't deny that she and her Hibi were a much better bet if stability was, for once, his goal. Rhoyo was unpredictable--Ekata was capable.
"Alright. I'll do what I can, then." Izaya hung up with a soft sigh, then raised his head to meet Shizuo's gaze. The blonde had stopped his pouting, and there was earnest concern in his eyes.
"Are you okay with this, Flea?"
"You don't even know what 'this' is," Izaya said flippantly. Shizuo's eyes narrowed slightly.
"You said you're not a 'gun for hire.' I heard it. What are you getting yourself into?"
"Nothing I haven't before," Izaya replied. "I can handle myself, Shizu-chan. I wouldn't have agreed to anything if I couldn't. Besides, I haven't exactly committed myself to this job--did you hear me commit at any point, hmm?"
"No," Shizuo admitted reluctantly. "Just that you would 'do what you can.'"
"Exactly," Izaya purred. "I'm a bit smarter than all that, Shizu. I won't let myself be backed into a corner. Have faith."
The blonde was silent for a moment, then shrugged and stood. "You want anything from the kitchen? I'm gonna go grab myself some water."
"Some water would be great," Izaya replied, smiling warmly. The blonde didn't return the expression, looking troubled even as he stalked from the room. He passed Harumi at the door, although he didn't spare the girl more than a glance.
"Is this really okay, Izaya-san?" the girl asked, padding quickly over to the bed. "Rhoyo-san already suspects you. If an attempt on his life were to go wrong, he would immediately hone in on you."
Izaya's smile eased into something altogether more knowing; something colder. He appreciated how quick Harumi was, and how well she kept up with the current state of things. "I'm aware, Dear. And don't worry--if I do choose to move on this, nothing will go wrong. Have faith."
"Don't try to appease me like you do him," Harumi murmured darkly, jerking her head in the direction Shizuo had vanished. Izaya felt a laugh bubble in his throat.
"Sorry, sorry," he murmured. "I forget, you have no faith in your savior Izaya-san."
The girl sniffed crossly, then turned. "If I tell Heiwajima-san what you're planning, he won't like it."
"You claim to know what I'm planning, on top of it?" Izaya purred in mock surprise, and Harumi's eyes narrowed.
"I do. You know it, too."
"Shizu-chan probably has some idea of it, too," the informant said easily, waving her off with one hand. "Go ahead and try to shock him--it won't work."
"If I tip Rhoyo-san off, he'll be even less pleased."
Izaya's cheer evaporated, but his smile remained--ice cold; calculating. "You two are still too young to make it on your own. You're tied to me for at least another few years."
"You're getting stronger," Harumi replied. "I never thought you would go through with this rehabilitation--that's why I've been playing along for the past two weeks. But now I'm sure you're serious."
"I've been serious from the beginning," Izaya affirmed.
"And then you're going to pack us up like belongings and move us to Ikebukuro," Harumi said, seeming to bristle as she said it. "You think I'll be content to just play house with you and Heiwajima-san forever?"
"No," Izaya said, his expression softening despite a conscious effort to keep it hard and cool. "You'll grow up, like children do. You'll strike out on your own eventually, duplicity against me notwithstanding. You might continue to hate me, or you might not. You'll establish your own life, perhaps with Harukahito or perhaps not. You'll pursue a career, above-board or under-ground. You'll date, and maybe fall in love. You'll--"
"Stop it!" the girl cut him off with sudden ferocity. "Don't lump me in with your 'beloved humanity!' You can't destroy me like you did our parents, Â and I'm not just some specimen for you to observe!"
"I never said you were," was Izaya's reply.
Shizuo reappeared before the girl could gather herself to reply, glancing between her and Izaya. Harumi was the first to move, bowing stiffly to him and then excusing herself. Izaya sighed softly as Shizuo came farther into the room.
"Was she bothering you?"
"She's a kid, Shizuo," Izaya said in exasperation. "No, she wasn't 'bothering me.' If anything, I'm the one who..."
Shizuo, sitting beside him, offered a cup of water. "You know, she told me to stay away from you--the first night they were back. She said you'd hurt me."
Izaya snorted, but accepted the glass. "I'm not surprised. She's a good kid, trying to warn you like that."
Shizuo grunted noncommittally, taking a long drink of his own water. Izaya took a sip of his, too, then looked over at his companion.
"You should try to get along with her."
"I should try to get along with her?" the blonde growled. "She's the one who--"
"You're the adult, Shizuo." Izaya's voice was good-natured, but his expression was serious. "Just like I'm an adult. They're children."
"You don't act like a damn adult, either..." Shizuo muttered crossly, and Izaya had to laugh.
"Because that didn't sound childish at all, did it? Grow up, Shizu-chan. If we're going to do this right, we have to make some attempt at maturity."
"Where'd you get the idea that maturity is all it's cracked up to be?"
"It's one of the things our last fight taught me."
That made Shizuo fall silent and, at long last, give a gruff chuckle. "Fine... I'll give it a shot, Flea. But only because you're the one asking, got it?"
"Got it," Izaya chirped, leaning over to press his shoulder against Shizuo's. The blonde gave a soft sigh and rested his head on the top of Izaya's.
"I want to make this work, Izaya..."
"I know..." Izaya breathed, then pushed gently away and stood, offering his hand to Shizuo. "Come on. Let's go out to the balcony. You could use a smoke and I could use a stretch that isn't one of these stupid psychical therapy stretches."
Shizuo nodded sullenly, then took Izaya's hand and rose; he didn't use the grip to pull himself up or put any of his weight on the informant's arm, but he still accepted the gesture. As soon as he was on his own feet, Izaya opened his arms slightly: a signal that he didn't want to get in his wheelchair, but instead wanted Shizuo to carry him. The blonde obliged, some of his agitation melting away.
Izaya Orihara could now stand on his own, and even walk short distances without assistance. It was painful and he still preferred not to, choosing instead to be carried by Shizuo or depend on his wheelchair, but his progress was obvious. His doctors were impressed, and Shizuo Heiwajima was far more than that. Izaya himself was satisfied--not enough to stop pushing himself, but enough.
Things were moving along.
"I can't wait to see it again..." Izaya sighed, leaning out over the balcony railing when they reached it. He stretched one leg out behind him, flexing his foot experimentally. "Ikebukuro..."
"Soon enough, we will..." Shizuo murmured, looking pleased as he took a long drag of his cigarette. "Then everything will be... good. Right."
Izaya felt uncertainty squirm deep in his belly. Shizuo seemed to think that going back to Ikebukuro would solve all their problems--the informant, although admittedly prone to donning similar rosy-hued glasses at certain moments, knew differently.
"Work on it with the kids, Shizu-chan."
The blonde didn't argue with him, simply let out a long, smokey breath. "If it's important to you, Flea..."
There was a tap at the newly-replaced glass door, and both men turned to see the boy bouncing slightly on the other side of the threshold. Shizuo sighed and put out his cigarette before Izaya reached over to open it.
"What're you guys doing?" Harukahito asked excitedly, hopping out onto the balcony. Shizuo didn't respond, but leaned farther out over the railing.
"Just whiling away the hours, my boy!" Izaya told him cheerily, resting a hand on his shoulder. "When you get to be old men like us, you like to just stand around and contemplate your place in the universe."
"You're not an old man, Izaya-san!" the boy chirped, in the catty way of a kid who knew their leg was being pulled.
Izaya's smile softened. "I feel that way," he told the child, then turned back toward the city. Shizuo was watching him closely, but Harukahito didn't bat an eye.
"You promised we'd play after you could walk again!" he said, tugging at the bottom of Izaya's shirt. "C'mon, Izaya-san! Let's play!"
"I intend to keep my promise," Izaya replied levelly, then pressed one hand against the boy's forehead, "but Izaya-san isn't strong enough for that yet. Patience."
Harukahito frowned, tugging a bit harder despite being pushed back. "You're so strong though, Izaya-san!" he appealed. "You're the strongest of all!"
"Maybe Shizu-chan will play with you," Izaya suggested, and the blonde drew himself up in surprise.
"Izaya..."
"Will you play with me, Shizuo-san?" Harukahito begged, releasing Izaya's shirt and trotting up to Shizuo's side. The blonde glanced nervously between the child and Izaya, who was looking up at him with gently suggestive eyes.
Work on it with the kids, Shizu-chan. C'mon, I'm even letting you start with the easy one.
Understanding, Shizuo gave a defeated sigh. "What do you want to play, Harukahito-kun?" he asked, with gruffly-faked cheer. The child beamed up at him, taking his hand.
"Let's go inside, Shizuo-san! I'll show you my toys!"
"Do me a favor and send Harumi-chan out, won't you?" Izaya called after them. "Tell her to bring my wheelchair."
Harukahito acknowledged the command with a wave as the door shut, and Shizuo cast one more uncertain glance back at him. Izaya smiled encouragingly before turning back out toward the city.
 Soon... soon we'll move back to Ikebukuro, and then...
... it won't be perfect, not right away, but we'll work at it. We'll get there. Â
"Izaya-san?"
Izaya turned to see the girl standing patiently in the glass doorway, wheelchair held out before her. Izaya nodded gratefully, pushing away from the railing and then sinking gratefully into the seat.
"Aah... not there yet, am I...?" he murmured, rubbing absently at his aching thigh. Harumi inclined her head slightly, then turned to leave. "Stay," Izaya murmured, before she could, and the girl stilled obediently. "Come on. Close the door behind you."
The girl hesitated a beat, then obeyed. Izaya's gaze was still turned outward toward the Mito street, although his vantage point was now lower and his vision was somewhat blocked by the railing.
"I've decided--how I want to play this with Rhoyo and Ekata."
Harumi's brow rose.
"I'm going to need your help, my dear. And you can't tell Shizu, you hear?"
"Of course," the girl said pleasantly. "What would you like me to do, Izaya-san?"
... ... ...
"That Harukahito isn't a bad kid," Shizuo commented later that night, his body curled protectively around Izaya's. He'd expressed such things before, and the information broker chuckled.
"My request shouldn't be so hard then, should it?"
Shizuo snorted. "I'm not saying I want to play beigoma with the kid every day."
"Tops?"
"That's what we ended up playing today. The kid's a lot better at it than me, too."
Izaya convulsed with laughter, though the sound itself was light and faint. "How... simply... adorable...!"
"Shut up," Shizuo growled, his arms tightening. But he also gave a soft sigh into the back of Izaya's neck, settling down deeper into the matress they shared. "Go to sleep, now. You've got an appointment tomorrow, remember?"
"I remember, Shizu-chan," Izaya soothed. "Good night."
"'Night, Flea. I love you."
"I love you, too."
As soon as Shizuo's breathing had deepened and eased into the steady pattern of sleep, Izaya reached over eagerly to where his phone sat on his nightstand. True to his threats, he'd called Namie Yagiri every single night since their initial conversation. Whenever she didn't pick up, he'd leave multiple, increasingly irritating messages; surprisingly enough, though, she answered more times than not.
"How was your day yesterday, Deary?"
There was a long yawn--the calls were an alarm for her, in the morning. "Exhausting. The review board paid a visit, and we had to scramble to hide the data on the head. One of our interns almost gave the game away."
Izaya chuckled. "Must've been terrifying."
"Nothing we haven't been through before." The sounds of her getting up and preparing for her day were audible in the background. "And you? How was your day today?"
"I got Shizu-chan to play nicely with Harukahito-kun!"
"Wow. What an accomplishment."
"Riiight? I think I'm making good progress."
"He's basically a grown-ass kid himself, so they should get along well."
"You'd think... But alas, child though he may be, Shizu's been more inclined to play the bully than get along, lately. He's terribly bored, though, so I can't really blame him."
There was the thorough scouring of her toothbrush, and her next words were mumbled. "I don't remember him having many hobbies."
"He doesn't," Izaya agreed dismally. "He's woefully unsuited to be a house-husband, I'm afraid."
"Pity. My Seiji would make an excellent house-husband, you know."
"I'm sure."
Namie spat out her toothpaste loudly. "He would.'
"I know he would, Dear. He's perfect in every way. You should come back to Ikebukuro to be closer to him."
"Bullshit. You want me to come back and work for you."
"It's hard to find help of your caliber," Izaya entreated. "Really, haven't I proved my investment in you with these repeated calls?"
"I'm hanging up now."
"I'll simply call back tomorrow!"
"My toast is burning. Excuse me."
"You should eat a more balanced breakfast, Namie-san!"
There was a click, and Izaya sighed fondly. Their conversations, though frequent, were short, and as soon as Ikebukuro came up they were over. But that didn't matter, because Izaya felt he was making discernible headway on the topic anyway. Settling back into the mattress, he rolled over in the confines of Shizuo's embrace so that he was facing the ceiling.
Shizuo and the kids... Namie... Shinra and Celty... it's all falling into place. He lifted his phone high above his head, then tapped out a message and hit send. The response he received made him smile.
 ăLife isn't as perfect as you think it is.ă
ăI don't think it's perfect. But if you put in the effort, you can make it yours. You can make it perfect for you.ă
ăDidn't you think what you HAD in Ikebukuro was perfect? Didn't having that illusion shattered by the very man you're sleeping next to cure you of these mortal delusions?ă
ăI was lying to myself before. I was lying to Shizu-chan. I was lying to everyone.ă
ăI'm different, now. I have a better perspective on things.ă
ăWell, I'm certainly looking forward to seeing what sort of fires you start, when you get back.ă
ăYou'll probably set yourself on fire too, you know.ă
ăI'll be on-deck to remind you of this "different Yumcha" and his pridefully optimistic "better perspective."ă
ăYou're just looking forward to seeing me again, let's be honest.ă
ăStill the same, Orihara--I'll bet you think EVERYONE would love to see you again, isn't that right? The return of their god?ă
ăCan you hear me laughing across this digital space between us? Ha-ha-ha!ă
Izaya chuckled aloud. It had been delightful to catch someone as seemingly omniscient as Tsukumoya Shinichi with news of his planned return to Ikebukuro.
 ăIf I thought that, I really would be an idiot.ă
ăI know a lot of my beloved humans will be less than thrilled. But I told you--there are things you have to work at. I love them, same as when I left--the difference is I'm finally prepared to do that work.ă
ăGood for you, Yumcha. I can't wait to see how this turns out.ă
Neither can I... Izaya admitted, to no one but himself. He glanced over at Shizuo's sleeping face, closed out of his phone with a weary sigh, and leaned over to kiss the blonde lightly. It didn't wake the man sleeping next to him, but when he drew back Shizuo's lips had curved up in a smile.
... ... ...
Izaya had never been fond of water. He didn't mind sunning himself beside it, and baths were an obvious exception, but actually going for a swim wasn't something that appealed. For that reason, pool therapy was one of his least favorite things about rehabilitation.
The weightless feeling, however, wasn't entirely unpleasant, and it wasn't as painful as many of the other exercise routines.
"You're really doing remarkably well, Orihara-san," his overseeing physician said, pausing by the edge of the pool and crouching down. Izaya, from where he was nearly submerged, grinned up at him.
"Why thank you, Dr. Akiko. I told you I was motivated, didn't I?"
The doctor nodded. "Just be sure you aren't overdoing it."
"I'm not!" Izaya chirped agreeably, saluting. He ducked below the water for a moment, swimming casually to the side of the pool and then surfacing a few feet from the doctor. "Actually, though, I did have a question I'd like to run by you."
"I'll answer it if I can, of course," the doctor replied, and Izaya smiled.
"Do you suppose I'd do myself any harm with a bit of rough-and-tumble?"
Doctor Akiko gave him a questioning look. Then, after a moment, he cleared his throat. "Well, it would depend, I suppose... on what sort of 'rough-and-tumble' you were talking about."
"There's a child I've promised to play with when I'm well, you see," Izaya replied cheerily. "He's getting impatient, but I'm afraid I might end up doing a bit of jumping around or something of the sort. He's rather over-enthusiastic, you see."
The doctor's expression brightened, and then he was laughing. "I see, I see," he said graciously, then shook his head. "You should be fine, just so long as you stop if you're in any sort of pain."
Izaya's smile widened. "Thank you, Doctor! I'll keep that duly in mind."
... ... ...
"Shizu-chan? I have a meeting with a client tonight, and I'd like you to accompany me."
The blonde looked over in surprise, his toothbrush hanging limply from his mouth. "Eh?"
Izaya sat calmly in the bathroom doorway, hands on the armrests of his wheelchair. "Will you, Shizu? It'll be a bit of excitement. I think it would do you some good."
"Why don't you ask one of the brats?" Shizuo asked mistrustfully, spitting the brush out thoughtlessly into the sink.
"This isn't the type of meeting one should bring children to," was Izaya's reply.
Shizuo regarded him levelly. "It's dangerous, then?"
"In a way. If things go wrong."
"Of course I'll come," Shizuo answered, reaching over to grab the towel. He pulled too hard, though, and wrenched the hanger off the wall with a jarring crack of plaster. The metal bar hit the tile seconds later with a clatter and Shizuo, although staring at it in something like surprise, soon shrugged and dried his face as though nothing had happened. "You should let me protect you more often, at least until you're fully back on your feet."
Izaya's lips twitched upwards. "I'm almost there, Shizu-chan. Then what excuse will you have for disliking my work?"
"You're a manipulative bastard who plays with people's lives and sells secrets for a living," Shizuo growled in response. "I don't need an excuse to hate that part about you."
Though Izaya wilted slightly in his wheelchair, he turned back toward the bedroom. "Well, I'm glad to have you along anyway. The meeting is at seven o'clock, so please be ready to leave around six-thirty."
"Will do," Shizuo mumbled.
"Wear something presentable!" Izaya added, over his shoulder. That didn't get a response, but Izaya couldn't stop smiling as he laid out the familiar bartender's clothes on the bed they shared.
... ... ...
He'd had Harumi arrange the meeting, but Shizuo was the one he brought along. Izaya Orihara, true to form, was betting everything on the dependable nature of humanity--even in a scenario where two of the key players were a monster and a notoriously unpredictable criminal.
"Orihara-san. It's unusual for you to want to meet in person."
"Today's update called for something special!" Izaya announced, spreading his arms wide. The red-haired man standing across from him didn't bite.
"Have you got Saturday all set up? The deal will fail, correct? Or did you call me here just to tell me that you've failed, despite your boasting?"
"I haven't failed at all," Izaya purred, feeling Shizuo prickle with tension beside him. The client hadn't taken serious notice of him yet. Little wonder, considering how entirely unassuming a person he appeared to be--thin, dressed in clothes indicative of the service industry, and with hair that was beginning to lose it's trademark golden color. The park they had met in, besides, was deserted; it might seem wise to keep watch for concealed dangers and sneak attacks, as opposed to pay attention to what was in plain sight: the mellow-looking fellow who was quite probably a live-in nurse or servant for the information broker. "There's just been a change in plans."
Rhoyo stiffened visibly; he might be just a bit sharp, after all.
"You see," Izaya began, "I've been in touch with Ekata-san of Hibi, to keep better tabs on their activities. And, as I was making preparations to do as you requested, I was approached by her with a commission that's outside my usual realm of expertise. She asked me, you see, to kill you, and offered me quite an impressive bit of money to see it through."
"You double-crossing bastard..." Rhoyo growled, but Izaya held up his hands.
"Obviously I'm here, telling you this, because I don't intend to double-cross you," he said calmly. "Let's try not to jump to conclusions. Killing my precious humans, with my own hands or otherwise, really isn't my style. But I do have a proposal for you."
"Eh?" The gangster made an impressively ugly face, and Izaya could practically hear Shizuo's teeth grinding. It was just the sort of thing that irritated the blonde.
"We'll fake your death!" Izaya announced. "If not that, you know, Ekata-san gave me the option of simply running you out of town. If I infiltrate Hibi further, under these sorts of pretenses, and gain Ekata's trust, I can provide you with even more valuable intel. If what you think about this alliance with Hibi is true, Taka will spiral downward in your absence. With that sort of setup, it would be child's play for you to stage a triumphant return to Mito, crush Hibi more completely than you could have dreamed of, and claim leadership of whatever remains of Taka--rebuild it in your own image and rule this city."
Izaya Orihara, true to form, had contingencies for any answer the man Rhoyo could give him. He had a strong preference for one, however, and was almost inconceivably delighted when...
"Out of the question."
"Hmm?" Izaya played at innocence in the face of the man's rage. "I think it's a pretty good idea, myself.'
"Abandon Taka?" Rhoyo demanded, taking an aggressive step forward; Shizuo tensed. "You've never belonged to a gang, have you?"
"A color gang--or rather, a colorless gang, once," Izaya replied. "But that was a long time ago."
"You don't have a scrap of loyalty in you, do you?" the man shouted, ignoring Izaya's strange statement. "I won't play dead and then show back up when things are at their worst--I'll stop that worse from every coming, by fighting back Hibi with everything I've got! And if you're telling me you won't help me do that--"
"I'm telling you how best to do that," Izaya said, with mock weariness. "You're being a bit shortsighted, if you'll forgive me for saying so."
"'Shortsighted?'" Now Rhoyo's anger was building--his face reddening to match his hair. Izaya could feel a similar thing happening with the blonde beside him, but forced himself not to look over at Shizuo.
"Very," he replied easily. "You know, you're just one man--you don't represent your group like Ekata-san represents hers. I'm going out on a bit of a thin limb, offering to back you instead of her."
That did it. Rhoyo broke, just as Izaya had made many of his beloved humans break. The colorful emotion that rushed out of the shattered facade was fury, and the handgun whipped out from it's place of concealment became the physical manifestation of his humanity.
"I won't stand here and let you talk down to me, let alone back out of the deal we--!" Rhoyo began, but the creak of rusted metal and tortured moan of bedrock interrupted him. An entirely average park bench was being mysteriously uprooted, and at the hands of--
Rhoyo barely had time to comprehend the terrifying look on the blonde's face; the incredible, inhuman strength rippling along the lean muscle that covered his body from head to toe as he wrenched the wrought-iron up from the ground and flung it. He didn't even have time to scream as he was crushed beneath the unlikely projectile, vision flashing white just briefly before his senses went dead.
"Well done, Shizu!" Izaya immediately exclaimed, with a single clap of his hands. "As expect--"
A fist flung with all the force of instinctual rage behind it; the crash of splintering metal upon impact; a lithe body sent flying through the air. It was so evocative of one long ago high-school meeting that one could almost here Shinra's cheerful introductions carried on the wind.
The information broker's feet were steady, but his legs shuddered with even the slight impact of his landing.
"Iii-zaa-yaaa..." came the well-worn snarl; the familiar flash of anger in his steely eyes. "I came here to protect you, and that's it. I'm not one of your god damn game-pieces, you got that?" His hand clenched into a fist, the muscles in his arm and shoulder preparing to hurl it forward once again. "Now I'm gonna..."
Exactly what he was about to say, while the meaning was fairly obvious, would never be known; even as he growled the beginning of the sentence, his expression began to clear. As he blinked, Izaya gave a soft cry of relief and allowed his weary, trembling legs to crumple beneath him; he hit the grassy turf with a soft thunk.
"That's it...!" he exclaimed softly, then gave a sobbing little laugh and spread his arms. "Come pick me up, Shizuo. Aah, I don't think I can walk at all after that one!"
But Shizuo only took a horrified step backwards, his wide eyes flashing from Izaya to the mangled wheelchair to his own fist and then back to Izaya. "If that... had connected..." he mumbled.
Izaya only shook his head, a delighted smile on his face. "But it didn't, Shizuo! Don't you see? It didn't connect!"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?!" Shizuo's yelp was strangled, and he stumbled backwards with enough haste to trip and thud roughly to the ground as well.
They were both left sitting, all at once gazing at each other from the same level.
"It didn't connect," Izaya repeated joyfully. "You can stop trying to hold back so much, Shizu, and I can stop feeling so afraid! We're nearly there! If I can dodge one of your punches...! Ha! We're almost there, Shizuo!"
"Did you... do this on purpose...?" Shizuo asked softly. "Is this why you brought me along?"
"Capturing Rhoyo-san is certainly a fabulous little accomplishment," Izaya said easily, "and that might even have been my primary goal, but... I'll admit, this was certainly something I may or may not have anticipated."
"You wanted me to snap?" Shizuo asked, without anger or curiosity--only shock. Then he sprang back up, shaking from head to toe as he pointed at the destroyed wheelchair. "What would have happened if that would have connected?! Do you have any idea, you stupid, selfish, shortsighted flea, what would have happened if that had connected?!"
"But it didn't," Izaya repeated smugly; Shizuo swung his fist sideways, slamming into a tree and blowing an impressive hole in the trunk. It wasn't a display Izaya had expected, and his smile faltered.
"What if I hadn't calmed down when I had?" the blonde demanded, his voice dangerously soft. "What if I had lost it sooner than you expected? What if I hadn't gone for Rhoyo at all, but I'd gone for you instead?"
"You wouldn't have done that..." Izaya said appealingly, but Shizuo seemed less certain.
"I don't know what I'm capable of, damn it. And neither do you. I thought I'd never try to hurt you again, and here we are."
Izaya swallowed. He'd expected confusion and perhaps a bit of anger, but he'd assumed Shizuo would see things the same way he did, after he explained. "But Shizu-chan, don't you see?" he tried again. "This is how it's always been. You punch, I dodge. You throw things, and I--"
"That's not what it's like anymore, though!" Shizuo cut him off furiously, then turned away and knotted his fingers in his ratty, duel-color locks. "Shit. Shit! God damn it, I need a smoke..." He fumbled with shaking hands in his vest until he found a crushed cigarette and his lighter, then paced farther away from where Izaya still sat as he smoked it.
"... Shizu...?" The informant, feeling distinctly abandoned, tried briefly to get up. But it was much harder to get up from the ground than it was to get up from a chair or the bed, and his legs felt shockingly weak on top of those difficulties. So, finding himself quite unable to rise, he crawled a few awkward feet across the turf. "Shizuo, talk to me. I thought you would--"
"What? You thought I would what?" Shizuo grumbled. "You thought I'd be glad that I took a swing at you? You thought I would want to go back to those days? That's not why we're going back to Ikebukuro, you stupid flea. Our relationship isn't what it used to be, and god damn it--it never will, not if I have any say in the matter. But now, of course, I don't even know if I have any say in the matter. I just attacked you--how the hell am I supposed to trust myself holding you close at night when I just tried to kill you? ... Just like back then..."
"I just thought you'd be relieved that we're getting back to equal footing," Izaya said appealingly--desperately. "We were always equals... before. You know. We didn't have to hold back or... or put up a front around each other. Didn't you enjoy that? I did..."
"I did, Izaya," Shizuo admitted. "And being equals is one thing. Yeah, I'd be happy to get back to that. But I lost control just now. That's not something to play around with.
"... This isn't some kid's game, Izaya. This is our lifetogether."
Izaya hung his head, feeling unexpected sobs shake his shoulders. "I'm sorry..." was all he could whisper, then. There was the crunch of shoes over grass, and then Shizuo was kneeling beside him.
"I'm so fucking proud that you dodged that punch," he murmured, brushing back Izaya's hair to kiss his forehead. "I'm so glad, too." Then he straightened and put distance between them, pulling out his cellphone. "I'm gonna call the kids to bring your spare wheelchair, okay?"
"Okay, Shizu..." Izaya murmured, choking on his plea to simply be carried. But when Shizuo had touched him a moment before, he had felt how hard the blonde was shaking.
It would have been a cruel request, and he had been cruel enough for the day.
... ... ...
"Come to bed, Shizuo. Please."
Izaya didn't care if he was being cruel again. He just wanted to have his earlier mistake erased.
Two silent faces peered out from the darkness of the guest room, but Izaya stood still in the doorway of his own bedroom. Shizuo lay curled, swathed in a spare blanket and with his back turned, on his chair.
"Shizuo, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Shizuo. I just wanted to prove that neither of us had to be afraid anymore, that's all."
"Stop apologizing," the blonde murmured. "I'm not mad at you. I'm not punishing you. I just don't trust myself, alright? It's me, not you. Got it? Go back to sleep."
"I can't," Izaya replied, a bit afraid that he would fall if he tried to push away from the wall. "You clearly can't either."
"That doesn't matter..." Shizuo mumbled. "It's better this way. You're safer this way. Nothing's changed, okay? I love you. I'm not leaving or anything stupid like that. I just don't trust myself being that close to you."
"How long have we been living together like this?" Izaya implored. "Nothing bad's happened. Y-You haven't hurt me, not once."
"I got too confident. I thought I would never try to hurt you again, so I let my guard down. And I ended up trying to hurt you."
"I made you do it! It was my fault, Shizu-chan!"
"It wasn't your fault, Izaya. You are who you are. My actions are my own responsibility--always have been and always will be."
Izaya shook his head violently. "And I've always been the one you don't have to be afraid of hurting!"
"Bull."
"It's true!" Izaya insisted, taking a step forward. His legs felt weak and unsteady, but he pressed on across the room until he was forced to stop for a moment, sagging against his desk. "And you're supposed to be the one who doesn't fall for my lies! You're the one who's supposed to see through my defenses and stupid schemes!"
"Well I fell for them today," Shizuo murmured. "And I almost hurt you today. Where does that leave your theory?"
Izaya felt frustration well up inside him, and before he knew it he had strode across the rest of the empty space separating them. His legs only lasted that far, though, and he leaned heavily against the arm of Shizuo's chair; the blonde stiffened beneath his blanket.
"You dumb oaf..." Izaya muttered, hot tears stinging the backs of his eyes. "Do you honestly think that this is the solution, then? You said you aren't leaving, but isn't this just another kind of running away?"
"That's rich, coming from a coward like you."
Izaya's frustration boiled over into indignation, and he heaved himself up over the arm of the chair to crawl bodily onto Shizuo. The blonde gave a gruff exclamation of surprise, flailing a bit and momentarily trying to shove his assailant off, but Izaya persisted. Shizuo could only groan with frustration as the informant settled in against his chest.
"This defeats the damn purpose of me sleeping out here, Flea...! Get off me, damn it...!"
"You're not snapping now," Izaya asserted, kissing first Shizuo's chin and then his cheek. The blonde made an agitated, bestial noise at the assault. "You're not snapping now. What does that tell you?"
"Noth--" Shizuo began, but cut himself off with a growl as his nose too was kissed.
"We have to work at this, but we can't try so hard that we're afraid to make mistakes...!" Izaya insisted. "I fucked up today--badly. But so did you. Two days from now, I'll fuck up again. And a week from now, it'll be your turn. That's what people in relationships do--I-I've seen it! Sometimes people are so scared of losing each other that they stop being themselves, but we'll never do that. We don't have to be afraid of anything."
"You're not making sense, Flea..." Shizuo grumbled, but then fell silent. Then, slowly, his arms closed around Izaya's frame, so lightly that their pressure could hardly be felt. "How's this...?"
"Too cautious, Shizuo..." Izaya murmured, nipping at the blonde's chin. "I'm not that fragile. Just hold me normally."
"But I'm not normal," Shizuo objected. "How the hell am I suppose to--"
"I'm not normal either, Shizuo," Izaya asserted. "Neither of us ever were, if you'll remember. Hold me like Shizuo Heiwajima holds Izaya Orihara--normally for us, you know. That's all."
There were a few tremulous heartbeats where Shizuo didn't move; didn't utter a sound or breathe. And then, just as Izaya was fishing desperately for another appeal, his arms tightened powerfully and protectively--that tender embrace that held just the slightest threat of broken bones. Izaya gasped with surprise and delight at the sensation, then shuddered with relief as he let his head rest on Shizuo's chest.
"How's this?" the blonde rumbled beneath him. "... Honestly?"
"It's perfect, Shizu-chan. We're perfect, if we just work at it a bit."
Fandom: Durarara!!
Characters/Ships: Shinzaya/IzaShin or Gen, your call; Izaya, Shinra   Â
Rating: GÂ
Length: oneshot; 1046 words
Summary:
AO3 Link (Coming Soon!)
Read on Tumblr:
(A/N) The first of several Shinzaya prompts @karinakamichi was kind enough to send me! It was the perfect bit of fluff and I had so much fun writing it. <3 Hope you enjoy~
Maybe it wasnât the absolute last thing he had expected, but Shinra hadnât anticipated opening his door to a wet, bedraggled Izaya Orihara at such dismally late hour. His current physical state was due, of course, to the raging storm putting half of Ikebukuro underwater, but the reason for his location was still quite a mystery.
âOh! Orihara-kun, is there something--?â Shinra began to ask, only to be shouldered out of the way as his classmate invited himself in. Shinra didnât bat an eye. âMake yourself at home!â
Izaya muttered something that might have been thanks, stepping out of his water-filled shoes and shaking each foot slightly--futile, as he was soaked to the bone--before donning the spare pair of house-slippers that Shinra kept.
âThat hobgoblin roommate of yours around?â he asked suddenly, peering around the living room. The storm could be seen raging outside of Shinraâs window, branches beating noisily against the glass, and Izaya seemed to shy slightly away from it.
âFairy, Orihara-kun, sheâs a fairy!â Shinra objected, then laughed. âNo, sheâs not around. Unfortunate! Sheâd love the fact that I have a friend over. Maybe not the fact that youâre getting the carpets wet, but...â
âWell, donât mind me,â Izaya cut in with a sigh, before Shinra could get too far off on a tangent. With one more furtive look at the window, he slunk over to the L-shaped couch and sat unceremoniously on the floor in front of it, wedging himself into the space in the corner of the L. âIâm just here to wait out the storm, if you werenât capable of surmising.âÂ
âI got that much,â Shinra said cheerfully. âDo you want tea? I should make tea.â
âDonât bother,â Izaya called back, but the would-be doctor had already vanished into the kitchen. With a sigh, Izaya hunched his shoulders slightly more and tried to block out the sounds of wind and rain.
The sudden boom of thunder, however, was not so carelessly ignored.
âTa-da!â Shinra called, trotting into the room with a tray of tea in hand. Izaya didnât look up as he sat on the couch beside where his guest was huddled. âHot green tea, for my...â He trailed off; sobered. âOrihara-kun?â
Izaya was shaking, and from more than the chill of his wet clothes. His eyes, although hidden beneath dripping bangs, were wide. And, as another explosion of thunder rocked Ikebukuro, he jumped and shuddered, eyes squeezing tightly shut.
âCould you be... afraid of thunder, Orihara-kun?â
âD-Donât be r-re-ridiculous...â Izaya managed, between grit teeth.
âI donât think Iâm being ridiculous at all, Orihara-kun,â Shinra said seriously, then brightened. âAh, how delightful!â
ââDelightful?ââ Izaya echoed sorely; his trembling was getting worse.
âThat you came to me, your friend, in your time of primal fear!â
That made Izaya scoff, although a softer rumble of thunder made him shrink as far back into the frame of the furniture as he could physically manage. âYour apartment was closer than mine, thatâs all. I decided I had a better shot of making it here before the storm broke. I panicked.â
âDonât worry, Orihara-kun!â Shinra said helpfully, then hauled the other boy rather forcibly from his hiding place. Izaya was as stiff as a board, and another boom had him clinging with bony-white fingers to Shinraâs arm. The would-be doctor only smiled and guided him deeper into the house, away from the window.
âWeâve got to get you dry, first,â Shinra chirped, although Izaya was still in the grips of a rigor-mortis-like stiffness. He peeled the sodden coat off his friend first, then pried himself from Izayaâs grasp long enough to fish a clean pair of pajamas from his drawer. âHere! Put these on.â
Izaya, although clumsy with fright and his terrible shivers, obeyed, changing as quickly as he could manage. By the time he had done up the last button on the shirt--an almost hopeless task, with how hard his fingers were shaking--Shinra was standing proudly beside a construct of blankets and bedroom furniture.
âItâs a fort!â he announced proudly, and Izaya nearly laughed at the whole absurd situation. But another tremendous crash of heavens meeting defenseless earth sent him diving for the flap of sheet that formed the entrance of the supposed fort. Shinra hummed happily as he vanished. âYou wait here! Iâll be back with tea and snacks.â
It wasnât as if Izaya would dream of going anywhere even if he hadnât said it. But, when Shinra returned and pushed carefully into the fort, he found his friend curled in a dismal, trembling heap near the back.
âAh, Orihara-kun. Here.â He held out a glass of tea. âThis should warm you up a bit.â
Izaya regarded him mistrustfully for a moment, but the dim light beneath the swath of blankets was calming. He pushed himself into a half-upright position, then accepted the cup. It was hot against his freezing hands, and the heat of it blossomed in his chest as he drank.
Another reverberating boom set him shivering again, but perhaps not as severely as before.
âSee?â Shinra asked cheerfully. âThis is a good place to wait out the storm, donât you think?â
âAs good as any...â Izaya murmured non-noncommittally. Within minutes, though, their two bodies had made the interior of the little blanket fort pleasantly warm, and Izaya found himself relaxing into the nest of pillows that formed the ground.Â
He didnât realize his eyes had closed until another burst of thunder jarred him and they snapped open. But what he saw wasnât the raging storm or even the blank walls of his own closet.
What he saw was Shinraâs smiling face.
âLetâs play something to pass the time, Orihara-kun. Do you like rock-paper-scissors?â
... ... ...
When Izaya woke the next morning, he was curled up on a hodgepodge of cushions and bedclothes with the pale dawn light seeping through sheets tented over his head.
Shinra Kishitani was fast asleep beside him, sprawled out slightly on his back and snoring softly.
While his first reaction might have been to slip out before any awkward, early-morning scenes could occur, Izaya eventually laid his head back down with a sigh. The safety he had felt the night before still lingered in the air, and he was grateful of the chance to gaze at Shinraâs face without risk of being called out for it.
He wanted to memorize every line of his precious friendâs face, after all, so that he could call it to mind the next time he was frightened.
Word count is at 7700. I havenât reread any of it and Iâm not quite sure how the word count got quite that high. I-I think Iâll let it sit for a bit before I go back and try to edit.
that discomforting feel of ânot exactly sure what i just wrote i hope itâs as good as i seemed to think while writing itâ
@niaoflea / @niaowrites has some incredible fics that I adore! Their writing is great and I hope they donât stop writing for the fandom any time soon!
                                           -Anonymous
Okay I am so so late reblogging this but honestly, this is one of the nicest things ever and thank you so so much! I was sobbing over this the day it was posted and now Iâm sobbing all over again! Q^Q
Out of all the fandoms Iâve drifted in and out of over the years, this is far and away one of the most amazing. The people, the content, I justâIâm so thrilled to be a part of it! You can count on me sticking around for a long, long time!
Fandom: Durarara!! Â
Characters/Ships: Shizaya/Izuo; Shizuo, Izaya, Harukahito (The Boy), Harumi (The Girl) Â
Rating: T Â
Length: Chapter 9/?; 3618 words
Summary:
SPOILERS through âThe Sunset with Izaya Oriharaâ Â
The way he was casually forcing his way back into Izayaâs life was both infuriating and befuddling, but the information broker couldnât bring himself to put up more than a token resistance.
He was in no condition, after all, to rekindle their fight to the death, and Shizuo Heiwajimaâs motivations remained, as they were, unclear.
AO3 Link Here
Read on Tumblr: (previous chapterâYou Are Hereânext chapter)
(A/N)Â Th-Thank you guys for your support and readership! I hope the new chapter is worth the wait! :'3
I DONT KNOW WHERE THIS NEW SUBPLOT IS GOING (ďžÂ´ăŽÂ´)ďž*:ｼďžâ§
also my anatomy nerd is showing pls dont pay it mind...
"Shi~zu~chan...
"Good~mor~niiing~"
Shizuo grumbled sleepily, even as Izaya dragged himself more fully onto the blonde's back. It was an awkward army-crawl-esce maneuver, and he wondered idly if it would soon be easier. For the time being, he settled himself in comfortably with his head on the blonde's shoulder.
"Your chin is sharp..." Shizuo complained mildly, and Izaya chuckled before tilting his head slightly.
"Better?"
"Better..."
Staring into the lush blonde hair inches from his face, Izaya reached over to tangle his fingers in it. "Gonna let it grow out?" he asked, stroking brunette roots among blonde strands. "Or are you going to dye it again?"
Shizuo gave a noncommittal grunt beneath him.
"I've never seen you with brown hair..." Izaya continued idly. "Shinra showed me a picture once, but you were very young in it. Such a small little beastie... You looked so very angry... You had a cast on your arm! ... Shinra said you clobbered him for snapping the picture... I think you should consider going back to brown... if you want my opinion... or maybe try reâaah!"
Izaya's words ended in a yelp as Shizuo surged up suddenly beneath him, flipping their positions and pinning Izaya roughly to the mattress. His smile had an edge to it, and the information broker felt a thrill in his bones.
"You talk a hell of a lot, you know that?" Shizuo asked, a vein visible on his forehead. His hand clenched tighter in the pillow for a moment, and Izaya swallowed.
"Shiâ"
The blonde gave a tremendous groan before Izaya could even get the name out, slumping down heavily onto the smaller man and growling ill-temperedly, "It's too early in the morning for this, Flea..."
Izaya gave a nervous chuckle. "I agree, Shizu-chan. What say we get some breakfast before we continue this?"
"You mean how about I make some breakfast..." Shizuo muttered crossly, and Izaya patted his shoulder briskly.
"I'll help, I'll help, Shizu! You need only to let me up and I'll help to the fullest of my invalid's ability!"
The blonde grunted, then rolled to the side with an obvious heave. Izaya let out a soft sigh of relief, sitting up with a bit of a struggle.
There was a knock at the bedroom door.
"Izaya-san? Are you awake yet?"
Izaya drew breath to answer the boy, but was abruptly silenced by a hand across his mouth. Shizuo, all at once, wrestled him into an unnervingly tight embrace.
"Izaya-san?" came the voice again, this time accompanied by Shizuo's throaty growling.
"Don't you dare answer him, Flea..." the blonde murmured, lips hot against the skin of Izaya's neck. "I'll have you to myself... for a few damn more minutes..."
The information broker gasped softly for some semblance of breath, but didn't try to call out; he didn't dare. Shizuo's mouth roamed idly down his throat and across his clavicle as they laid in silence, leaving kisses and bites all along Izaya's pale skin. The boy called out once more, but then his footsteps receded audibly. Â
"Alright, alright..." Izaya groaned, wriggling but not trying to get free of Shizuo's grasp; the blonde didn't falter. "Let me up, Shizu. I've got my first therapist appointment at eleven. Let me up...!"
The blonde muttered something disgruntled, but again didn't move. Izaya felt the beginnings of panic tighten around his rib cage.
"Honestly, Shizuo, let me up...!"
The blonde looked at him in surprise, tightening his grip marginally. "Isn't that just for questions, Flea? Don't try to change the god damn rules on me..."
Izaya suppressed a shudder within those too-right arms. "Sorry, Shizu-chan..." He couldn't forget the time when being caught in such an embrace would have meant broken bones, at bestâat the worst, death.
Shizuo's frame rumbled briefly with a growl, but then his grip eased. "Still afraid of me, eeh...?"
"Not afraid," Izaya objected, but it was a bit of a lie. Shizuo, with a groan, stretched and flopped back with his arms wide, one still beneath Izaya but no longer curled up around him.
"Can't blame me..." he muttered, narrowed eyes staring up at the ceiling.
"Honestly, Shizu, I can't," Izaya admitted, crawling up onto Shizuo's chest and kissing him sweetlyâpartly to reassure the beast and partially to hide how entirely shaken he was.
Shizuo grunted and heaved himself up into a sitting position, pulling Izaya up on his lap. "Sorry..." the blonde grumbled, and Izaya shook his head.
"It's fine, Shizu. Comes with the territory."
There was another knock at the door, and another voiceâthe girl's, this time. "Izaya-san. We've prepared breakfast."
Shizuo grunted, even as Izaya laughed nervously. "See? And you don't even have to make breakfast, after all."
"Those damn kids are going to drive me batty..." he growled, then scooped Izaya up; placed the informant in his wheelchair before stalking off toward the bathroom. Izaya watched him with hooded eyes, then moved with an effort to the bedroom door when the blonde had vanished.
"Morning, Izaya-san!" the boy greeted him happily; the girl simply bowed.
"Good morning, you two," Izaya responded cheerfully, then wheeled his way toward the kitchen. The kids had indeed prepared a surprisingly presentable breakfast, and Izaya wondered why he hadn't ever noticed that they could cook.
... Furthermore, why he was seemingly the only person besides the damn dullahan who didn't know their way around a kitchen.
"Where's Heiwajima-san?"
"Freshening up," Izaya replied, not turning to face the girl. "I'll be doing the same as soon as he comes out. I miss having a bathroom to myself, but I can't exactly displace you two from the guest room."
"You were really awake earlier, weren't you? When Harukahito came to fetch you."
"What gives you that idea, Dear?"
Harumi didn't answer; Izaya listened to her steps recede, breathing a sigh of relief. He turned his attention, then, to dishing the breakfast, wanting everything to be ready by the time Shizuo emerged. Harukahito, after a moment, appeared at his shoulder and began to help cheerfully.
"Your turn, Flea..." Shizuo growled, when he emerged with a small towel draped around his neck. Izaya nodded towards the set table; Harumi was already seated, silent.
"Go on and start; I'll just be a minute."
Ignoring the tension crackling across the room, Izaya made his arduous trek back to the bedroom, then into the bathroom. He took a moment to examine himself in the mirrorânoted that, despite the wheelchair visible in the frame, he both looked and felt more like the information broker who had fought over the territory of Ikebukuro with the blonde beast that dwelt there.
When Izaya reemerged, he found the dining table surprisinglyâbut thankfullyâpeaceful. Harukahito was the only one making conversation over the clink of chopsticks on porcelain, but that was normal. Shizuo had almost finished the food Izaya had set out for him.
"Be sure to eat all of it," was the only thing the blonde said, when Izaya glided up to the table. He pointed his chopsticks at the informant's place-setting. "You'll need your strength for that rehab appointment today."
Izaya smiled as he picked up his own utensils. "I know. I'll be sure to, Shizu-chan. Thanks."
... ... ...
Trying to walk
hurt
. Izaya felt his face twist involuntarily as he forced his arms to slacken; let as much weight rest on his legs as they could possibly take. He could have easily supported himself with his upper-body alone, on the double-barred apparatus they were having him walk on, but that would defeat the purpose of the exercise.
His pain tolerance was impressively high, anyway, and he had already decided to push himself as hard as he possibly could.
There had been a time when he was strongânot as physically strong as his Shizu-chan, but strong enough to match the beast in his own way. His endurance had been something near unthinkable by human standards. It had been life and death chases which had pushed him to those standardsâhe had decided to approach this physical therapy with the same high-stakes frame of mind, and in such a way reclaim his old state of being.
Izaya's hip gave way suddenly with an ominous pop, and he went down with a strangled curse. His legs, locked into braces as they were, splayed awkwardly beneath him. Instantly a nurse was rushing over to the twin bars, but Izaya waved her off frantically. He'd caught himselfâwith a painful jolt of his shoulder, to compliment the pain in his hipâand didn't want to be led away from the bars.
"I'm okay...!" He forced his voice to be cheerful as he waved again to the nurse. "Just slipped a bit! I-I can keep on with this."
And she, although with a visible reluctance, nodded and allowed it.
Izaya persisted with the exercise until an alarm went off, signaling it was time to switch to a different type of activity. He was altogether too relieved to slump into his familiar wheelchair, and didn't try to dissuade the nurse when she moved to push him. His pelvis ached especially, and he wondered idly if he should be worried about damaging his bones while he was trying to rebuild his muscles. Deciding to do some research on that once he got home, Izaya allowed himself to relax for the duration of the wheelchair ride to the next room over.
The cell phone he had smuggled into the facility vibrated in his pocket.
"Yes?" He answered it, ignoring the disapproving look from the nurse.
"Information broker. You sound a bit winded."
"Ah, Rhoyo-san," Izaya answered good-naturedly. "Yes, well... I'm doing a bit of exercise right now, you see. Have to stay in top form."
"That's funny, coming from a rich, wheelchair-bound kid."
Izaya's expression soured, and he was glad his client couldn't see it. "You certainly don't think I'm the type to bite, do you?"
There was a coarse laugh from the other end of the line. "I would have been disappointed if you did."
Izaya was aware that they had reached their destination; the nurse was watching him impatiently. "Listen, I have to... run, if you'll pardon the turn of the phrase. What was it you were calling about?"
"The time-table on our next deal with Taka has been moved back. It's going to happen three weeks from now."
Izaya's eyebrows arched. "Really? You act like I haven't already heard. People like you pay me because I keep an eye on things like that, isn't that right?"
There was a disgruntled beat of silence, and Izaya tried not to smile too obviously. He couldn't forget the nurse standing at his shoulder.
"Fair enough, Broker. I'm calling because I need you to make sure that that deal goes wrong."
"Really? Wouldn't that be rather bad for business?"
"Not at all," Rhoyo replied. "There are those of us within Hibi that want war with Takaâthis stupid front of cooperation is actually costing us business, in the long-run. My bosses aren't so keen on it, sure... but they'll come around."
"I see..." Izaya purred, now entirely unable to keep the grin from curving his lips. The tendency to put the good of a given group above even the orders of that group's leader was always an interesting twist, and a very human flaw that he had seen in this man long ago. "I'll see what I can do, Rhoyo-san."
"Good. I'll contact you later with the details."
"I'll look forward to it. Later." And Izaya disconnected, breathing a satisfied sigh. If this went well, it would meanâ
"Cell phones aren't allowed, Sir."
The nurse's clipped voice broke into his train of thought, and Izaya smiled meekly up at her.
"I'm terribly sorry, kind lady. You've been such a help to me today, too... it won't happen again, I promise."
The nurse, unfortunately, didn't seem to be falling for it. She simply held out her hand insistently, and Izaya had precious little recourse but to hand over his cell phone with a defeated sigh.
Best he focus on the task at hand, anyway, he thought, as the nurse proceeded to push him toward an intimidating piece of equipment.
... ... ...
"Oh Shizu-chan, I'm exhausted...!"
Though his initial inclination had been to play it tough, Izaya felt his resolve crumble as soon as he laid eyes on his beloved beast. Shizuo, despite the fact that Izaya was nestled securely in his wheelchair at the moment, swooped forward to bundle the smaller man into a bridal-style embrace.
"Ah, put me down...!" Izaya objected, thumping softly at his shoulder. "I'm all sweaty and gross! And this is so undignified, Shizu! We're in public, don't you know?"
"Shut up," was the growled response he got, and Shizuo's arms tightened around him. After an obligatory moment of struggle, Izaya allowed himself to settle happily into the other's arms. Shizuo shifted him expertly so that he was cradled in one arm, then used his free hand to pick up the abandoned wheelchair.
"Thanks for coming to get me, Shizu-chan."
"Of course," the blonde grunted, using his shoulder to push open the lobby door. Izaya, nestling down more comfortably over his other shoulder, enjoyed the stares of the other people in the room through sleepily narrowed eyes. "How'd it go?"
"It went well," Izaya chirped. "Tiring, but well."
"I'm proud of you."
"That's a rather uncharacteristically sentiment, Shizu-chan."
The blonde grunted, but otherwise didn't respond. Izaya didn't pursue the conversation either, content to soak in the stares of people they passed and relish the feeling of being lovingly carried in strong arms.
... ... ...
After a long bath to clean the offensive sweat and grime from his skin, Izaya couldn't quite bring himself to move from where he'd curled up on his bed. He wasn't overly sleepy, but so physically exhausted that moving about via his wheelchair was neigh unthinkable. After a while, Shizuo came and sat silently beside him, bent over his phone.
"Rub my back, won't you?" Izaya implored, after a moment. Shizuo glanced over at him in surprise, and the brunette rolled slightly onto his stomach, stretching his arms out in front of him. "The soreness is starting already..."
Shizuo obediently put his phone to the side and adjusted his position on the bed, though he hesitated a beat before lowering his hands into Izaya's shoulders. The informant groaned with pleasure as he began to knead.
"Aah... That feels heavenly...! Here..." Izaya murmured, shifting slightly; Shizuo's hands instantly stilled, in case he had done something wrong, but Izaya only wriggled until he could shed the thick robe he had put on after his bath. He shifted it down so that it was still tied loosely around his waist, but the pale flesh of his back was exposed. "That should be better... Please, do continue."
Shizuo hesitated, brow knitting, before he resumed, his eyes wandering down the lean frame; the narrow chest expanding and contracting with breath beneath his hands. He could feel every bone beneath its silky sheath of flesh, and the steady beat of a heart when he touched the right spots. There were also ridged scars, though, that he'd never known aboutâthey crisscrossed the information broker's skin, and he wondered if Shinra might be able to tell him the story behind each one.
Then, just as quickly, he wondered how many of those scars had been his doing.
As if in subconscious reparation for those long-ago injuries, his movements became even more caring; he worked his way down trapezius and latissimus dorsi, using his thumbs to get at the erector spinae right beside the delicate vertebrae. Izaya occasionally shuddered or made small sounds of pleasure, small and alive beneath his handsâa fragile state of being that Shizuo distinctly remembered wanting to destroy. The bones and muscles he was currently working at would be entirely too easy to crush, purposefully or even by accident. But Izaya was totally relaxed beneath his touch, and only eased deeper into that relaxation as the minutes ticked by.
"I said... what I said... earlier..." Shizuo mumbled, after a moment; when he paused, Izaya made a gently questioning sound. "Matching you gave me a reason to be proud of my damn strength. So I'm proud of you... that you want to get back to that."
"I'm glad, Shizu..." Izaya breathed, his eyes closed. Shizuo almost wished they'd open, if only so he could see them; he knew he would look away instantly, awkwardly, but just a glimpse of those sorrel gems was all he really needed. It wasn't to be, though, at least for the moment.
Even when he became aware that Izaya had fallen fast asleep, Shizuo kept up his massaging. He even, only just audibly, began to murmur loving things under his breath as the smaller man slept peacefully.
... ... ...
Though still physically worn-out, Izaya found he was quite mentally alert later that night, thanks to his earlier nap. Shizuo had fallen into a sound sleep beside him, and he couldn't hear any movement of children throughout the rest of the house; thoughts of Ikebukuro were swirling through his head with maddening speed, so it wasn't long before he turned to his phone for distraction. He knew just the person to botherâthe one Ikebukurian acquaintance he'd had contact with before Shizuo appeared. Then again, she had also fled from the city at about the same time he had.
"Hello there! Guess who? Are you surprised? Are you simply on the verge of tears? Is your heart beating unnaturally fast behind that voluptuous chest?"
"What... the hell do you want at six in the god damn morning?"
"I'm flattered you picked up, my dear." Izaya shifted, keeping his voice low. Shizuo's breath remained steady beside him. "I hardly expected you to be awake. Though it's only ten here, so that's really not an unreasonable time to call..."
"I'm about to hang up." Her words might have been menacing, had they not been interrupted by a yawn.
"Oh please don't!" Izaya implored softly. "Don't you want to hear what I've been up to? I'd like to hear what you're up to!"
"Don't be ridiculous..." the woman murmured. "You called me to stroke your own ego, as usual."
"I'm hurt...!" Izaya chirped, rolling over onto his stomach so that chin rested on crossed arms. Shizuo growled softly in his sleep, but didn't wake. "For once it's not true, I swear!"
"Then whatâ" another long yawn, "do you want, at this ungodly hour?"
"I want to know if you'll come back to Ikebukuro."
The woman choked on what sounded like a laugh. "Are you drunk?"
"I'm horrified you'd think such a thing of me!" Izaya replied. "I'm being serious."
"You don't even live in Japan anymore," she pointed out flatly. "And last I checked, you had no intention of going back there, either."
"Things have changed," Izaya admitted.
"What things?"
"Shizu-chan found me."
Again the woman choked. "And you're still alive?"
"Still alive, my dear. And I've decided to go back with him to Ikebukuro."
"So that horrid Shizuo-complex of yours finally came to something!" the girl yelped, loud enough that Izaya almost feared it would wake the blonde beside him. "Good for you! Leave me the hell out of it."
"Namie..." Izaya began imploringly, but the woman cut him off.
"I want nothing to do with your fucked-up happily-ever-after, Izaya. You think you're the only one who had good reason to leave Ikebukuro behind?" She scoffed. "I've got some rather bitter memories of the place, myself."
"But that doesn't matter, now," Izaya entreated. "We can go back. We can do it right this time. I swear I'd be a better boss this time around, if you'd just have the faith to step back into my employ."
"You were a fine boss," Namie retorted. "You were just a shitty person."
"Well, I can't say that's changed much..." Izaya said good-humoredly, then hurried on through Namie's exasperated sigh. "What have you got in America, really? Your research on a disembodied dullahan's head? Everyone stopped caring about that long ago."
"You might have, but other people haven't," the woman huffed. "This is relevant research I'm working on, I'll have you know. And it isn't as if my personal interest in the head has lessened, either."
"Namie..." Izaya cajoled, but the woman only clicked her tongue.
"I'm not at your beck and call anymore, Izaya. Now, if that's all you called about, I'd like to get back to sleep."
"Oh please don't hang up!" Izaya pleaded. "Tell me everything! How are you? How's your dear Seiji? Do you have a boyfriend? Do you have a cat? Are your coworkers in America interesting people? Is your boss there as enigmatic and exciting as I? Have you heard from any of our old mutual acquaintances? How's that bastard Shingen? Are you getting by alright on what they're paying you? Have you got a car? An apartment? A social life? Oh Namie Yagiri, tell me about the life you won't leave at my humble request!"
"I'm hanging up now."
"If you do, I'll just call back tomorrow!"
The phone clicked loudly in Izaya's ear.
With a sigh and a pledge to make good on his threat, Izaya set his phone down on the nightstand and settled down. As he snuggled into the mattress, making himself more comfortable, he also pressed back into the solid wall which was Shizuo lying beside him.
The blonde grumbled something in his sleep; looped one arm instinctively around the smaller man, drawing him closer. Izaya's soft sigh became one of contentment, and he let his mind drift more peacefully to Ikebukuro as he began to sink into sleep.
