Just like on that day - the one that changed everything, that brought forth an end and offered up no new beginning - it was raining. The residents of Ikebukuro were holed up inside buildings and under awnings. The streets themselves were mostly empty, but for the occasional vehicle, braving the large puddles and loud claps of thunder. Most of Ikebukuro's residents missed the blond that walked through the rain without an umbrella, a lit cigarette his only companion, but the occasional glance out the window was enough to send a few to gossip in the chat rooms.
[Did you hear? Shizuo is walking out in the rain!] (Ah, is he? I heard he hasn't been around much all week!) {Do you think it's because of...you know...} [Do you mean Orihara's death?] (It was Shizuo who finally got him, wasn't it?)Shizuo was oblivious to the online chatter - to the rumors that had built up around him. He did not need them to feel his guilt, keenly, an ebbing on his mind, trailing every thought. No, he did not need the police questionings or the image of Izaya
( ... )
Dying was atrocious. No, to put it more correctly would be to say that dying was a horrific experience. And at the ripe age of twenty three, it had been the last thing on Izaya's list of 'things-to-do.' To be ripped so suddenly from his very own existence wasn't as poetic as he had originally thought it might be. There had been no beautiful, powerful angel warriors to greet him into the doors of heaven. There was no plunge of miraculous spirituality that sent him forth into another realm. No.
There had only been darkness. This extended realm of nothing but pitch black. He couldn't feel anything. He couldn't hear anything. See, touch, taste, smell. Nothing in this place existed. At times, Izaya had wondered if he even existed. He couldn't see his own body. He didn't need to contemplate if he was dead. That zoning silence told him enough. And it felt so cold, so unbearably cold...How long would this last? Was this all that his existence had amounted to? Was this really life after death for everyone? Had it been all of the wrong-doings
( ... )
Shizuo shut the door behind him. He dulled the mantra by focusing on turning on the light and stepping out of his shoes. His socks were wet - his whole bartender uniform was at the threshold where it could no longer absorb any more water. It made his apartment feel cold and drafty, so he turned to adjust the heat - only to turn back around and be met with the appearance of the man he killed.
Before it registered to Shizuo that it was Izaya who spoke, he was prepared for action. A man accustomed to violence and fighting - no matter how much he hated it - did not respond to threats by running or crying out. He grabbed the nearest object - a chair - and held it over his head, prepared to bring it down upon the interloper.
Then, it registered. His face went from determined to surprised - disbelieving. He lowered the chair, though he still held it in his grasp - and mentally traced back over the words.
Check mate."No," he said with more confidence than he had. Had this all been an elaborate joke? Izaya, fucking with him like he
( ... )
Despite his current...situation, Izaya reacted as though he would have just before. He flinched back as though he were embracing to dodge out of the way of the chair. His hand even went to his pocket- which he found to be completely empty. Something that alarmed him to the point of actually making him look down rather than at Shizuo. Why were his pockets empty?
His head snapped back up and it was the realization of his own death that caused Izaya to finally relax, standing straight yet again. Shizuo couldn't reach him any longer. Not like that. Shizuo couldn't hurt him. Instead of feeling rejoice though, Izaya felt an echo of something. Sorrow? No, it couldn't possibly be that"Ah?" Izaya said when he was told to leave, a look of insult growing onto his face, "You won't even invite me in? Nn, Shizu-chan is a horrible house guest
( ... )
Everything was weird. Not just because Shizuo was faced with the man he had murdered, but this thing in front of him was off, in some way. The way he looked down, checking his pockets - Shizuo clenched the chair harder, even raised it slightly, as though he had reconsidered chucking it. If it were really Izaya - the man would be able to get away, easily. Just like he should have that night when Shizuo threw the stop sign.
Then Izaya was speaking again and once more the situation sent a chill down Shizuo's spine - so eerily similar to the dead informant and yet, slightly different.
The word eternity hung in the air.
Could it really be Izaya? Dead and back to make him face his dreadful mistake, his win that felt more like a loss than anything. Shizuo gritted his teeth, forced himself to lower the chair. He tried hard to focus on Izaya's words, to pick up on an indication that he wasn't real, that maybe Shizuo himself was going mad with guilt. But before he managed to place the chair down, Izaya walked through him and Shizuo felt
( ... )
"And I'm trying to! Do you really think I want to stick around here? Tch. Look at it," Izaya said and looked around the dingy place. It wasn't horrible, no, but compared to his penthouse it may as well have been a shit hole.
By the time Izaya could register the chair coming at him, it was too late to move even if he had been alive. Though alive, he could've taken it. He had taken worse from Shizuo than a chair. Regardless, the sensation of the object going right through him caused Izaya's eyes to widen and his hands to go to his torso. He couldn't even hear the television set breaking. Well, he did, but it was an incredibly delayed reaction, his head turning slowly to look at the damage
( ... )
Izaya's reaction to the chair made Shizuo's own eyes widen. It was unsettling - not only did it pass through the informant, but Izaya was distracted by the hit. Not nimble, not jumping out of the way with a laugh, but putting his hand over the would-be bruise. Shizuo looked away, at his television set. There was something wrong about seeing Izaya like that - almost made human in death.
The description of death - of darkness and lacking only prolonged Shizuo's discomfort. He stood, not quite looking at Izaya, but listening carefully
( ... )
Despite Shizuo being physically incapable of hurting Izaya any further, Izaya still felt naturally cautious around him. Perhaps it was from the years worth of fighting with Shizuo but the beast still managed to make his skin crawl.
Regardless, Izaya managed to uphold a perfectly calm, observant expression as his head turned to follow Shizuo to his seat. Izaya wasn't an idiot. He knew that Shizuo had never wanted to kill him. Shizuo didn't want to kill anyone. And maybe, just maybe, Izaya resented that about the blond. Why did he have to be like that? Why couldn't Shizuo be cocky and greet him with that insane smile that Izaya had grown so fond of over the years? The one that let him know that Shizuo was about to take him out?
Instead, he was greeted with a sight that Izaya honestly had not expected. While he had always known Shizuo probably, morally, didn't want to kill him- he always thought that if he should, then at least Shizuo would look relieved. Happy in some miniscule way. But he didn't. And Izaya? He hated it. Why did
( ... )
Comments 86
[Did you hear? Shizuo is walking out in the rain!]
(Ah, is he? I heard he hasn't been around much all week!)
{Do you think it's because of...you know...}
[Do you mean Orihara's death?]
(It was Shizuo who finally got him, wasn't it?)Shizuo was oblivious to the online chatter - to the rumors that had built up around him. He did not need them to feel his guilt, keenly, an ebbing on his mind, trailing every thought. No, he did not need the police questionings or the image of Izaya ( ... )
Reply
There had only been darkness. This extended realm of nothing but pitch black. He couldn't feel anything. He couldn't hear anything. See, touch, taste, smell. Nothing in this place existed. At times, Izaya had wondered if he even existed. He couldn't see his own body. He didn't need to contemplate if he was dead. That zoning silence told him enough. And it felt so cold, so unbearably cold...How long would this last? Was this all that his existence had amounted to? Was this really life after death for everyone? Had it been all of the wrong-doings ( ... )
Reply
Before it registered to Shizuo that it was Izaya who spoke, he was prepared for action. A man accustomed to violence and fighting - no matter how much he hated it - did not respond to threats by running or crying out. He grabbed the nearest object - a chair - and held it over his head, prepared to bring it down upon the interloper.
Then, it registered. His face went from determined to surprised - disbelieving. He lowered the chair, though he still held it in his grasp - and mentally traced back over the words.
Check mate."No," he said with more confidence than he had. Had this all been an elaborate joke? Izaya, fucking with him like he ( ... )
Reply
His head snapped back up and it was the realization of his own death that caused Izaya to finally relax, standing straight yet again. Shizuo couldn't reach him any longer. Not like that. Shizuo couldn't hurt him. Instead of feeling rejoice though, Izaya felt an echo of something. Sorrow? No, it couldn't possibly be that"Ah?" Izaya said when he was told to leave, a look of insult growing onto his face, "You won't even invite me in? Nn, Shizu-chan is a horrible house guest ( ... )
Reply
Then Izaya was speaking again and once more the situation sent a chill down Shizuo's spine - so eerily similar to the dead informant and yet, slightly different.
The word eternity hung in the air.
Could it really be Izaya? Dead and back to make him face his dreadful mistake, his win that felt more like a loss than anything. Shizuo gritted his teeth, forced himself to lower the chair. He tried hard to focus on Izaya's words, to pick up on an indication that he wasn't real, that maybe Shizuo himself was going mad with guilt. But before he managed to place the chair down, Izaya walked through him and Shizuo felt ( ... )
Reply
By the time Izaya could register the chair coming at him, it was too late to move even if he had been alive. Though alive, he could've taken it. He had taken worse from Shizuo than a chair. Regardless, the sensation of the object going right through him caused Izaya's eyes to widen and his hands to go to his torso. He couldn't even hear the television set breaking. Well, he did, but it was an incredibly delayed reaction, his head turning slowly to look at the damage ( ... )
Reply
The description of death - of darkness and lacking only prolonged Shizuo's discomfort. He stood, not quite looking at Izaya, but listening carefully ( ... )
Reply
Regardless, Izaya managed to uphold a perfectly calm, observant expression as his head turned to follow Shizuo to his seat. Izaya wasn't an idiot. He knew that Shizuo had never wanted to kill him. Shizuo didn't want to kill anyone. And maybe, just maybe, Izaya resented that about the blond. Why did he have to be like that? Why couldn't Shizuo be cocky and greet him with that insane smile that Izaya had grown so fond of over the years? The one that let him know that Shizuo was about to take him out?
Instead, he was greeted with a sight that Izaya honestly had not expected. While he had always known Shizuo probably, morally, didn't want to kill him- he always thought that if he should, then at least Shizuo would look relieved. Happy in some miniscule way. But he didn't. And Izaya? He hated it. Why did ( ... )
Reply
Leave a comment