Thoughts

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Shizuo was running. He was on the ground and it was solid and sturdy and frozen under his feet and the sky was overcast and black and angry and the breeze was frosty and nipped at his nose. Autumn was at its prime and Ikebukuro lived deep in the heart of the chilly golden season. Shizuo was chasing Izaya all over the city, the duo leaping over damp piles of decaying leaves as they ran.

But then Izaya takes a sharp turn and Shizuo can't slow down, His momentum carries him. He was suspended in mid-air, the ground dissipating beneath his feet, revealing a wide expanse of blue.

His eyes widen and weightlessness consumed him and sank in the deadening sensation that spread through his chest like a cancer. As an intake of air stopped in his throat, Shizuo wondered faintly if it might be his last.

Panic and fear sets in but there's nothing he can do because he's falling… falling… He can hear the wind howling above his head, and then nothing.

The icy water catches him and bites him, grasps him in a sharp jaw and shakes him senseless and shoots needles up his spine. And the water closes above his head and Shizuo flails around like that might save him, like he might find something to grab onto and haul him up to oxygen and life.

The water kneads him, pressure pushing down low and hard, smothering him. Bubbles of air slid up his face as he sinks and he watches them float farther and farther away. His lungs are squeezed tight; his chest is compact and constricted.

His sight is dimming, he's taking in only water and it's filling up his lungs and everywhere in between and it's weighing him down… He's going to die, there's no doubt in his mind.

His strength can't save him now.

The surface is farther away, everything is far away… People are living their lives unaware that he is dying. He's dying and no one is doing anything about it. He's numb, he can't move. His arms are outstretched towards the fading light above him, reaching… reaching…

His mind's going hazy, ice flows though his veins, making him stiff. Shizuo doesn't go down fighting like he always said he would. Shizuo's world ends in water, tangled up in blue. He takes what little strength he has left and uses it to close his eyes, resigning to his fate at the bottom of Tokyo Bay.


Izaya is waiting. Patiently like a dog for its master. Patiently waiting for Shizuo to arise from the water, dripping and cold and wet and enraged. He expects fury and humiliation as he tries to find a way out. But there's nothing. Only the sneer of the wind as it cajoles him for his cleverness.

He peers over the edge curiously, a wicked smile spreading over him, a laugh festering and bubbling up from somewhere down in the dark corners of his soul. But he does nothing, only allows a sharp curl of the lip to show his satisfaction.

But Shizuo still doesn't surface.

Izaya blinks, surely the brute could swim. Surely he would prove the underlying suspicion wrong? Someone like Shizuo couldn't just drown like that right? He keeps his gaze downcast as he waited.

Nothing.

It's a pity to get his clothes wet, but he really should get a body for evidence… right? He needed proof right? There was no other logical reason for Izaya to jump in after him. He shoves the thought out of his head.

He couldn't do that. He'd catch hypothermia. It was a waste of time. Shizuo was dead. Gone. Even he couldn't breathe underwater. Izaya should leave now and tell Celty to fish him out for him later.

The next time he looks up, he's already stripped of his jacket and shoes. He subconsciously removes his cellphone and blade, glaring distastefully down at the water. No. Nononono. What was he doing? It was freezing. He needed to get his jacket back on.

You fool! Go home and give up.

It's probably very cold at this time of year. It was gentle slope, and he can imagine himself rolling and stumbling over frozen hard ground into even colder water. The wind was whipping and that was not going to help when he emerged from the subzero waters. Very unpleasant. Very uncomfortable.

He leans over the edge. It wasn't plausible. It was irrational. There was no way Shizuo was alive, so what was he doing? Why didn't he hand this over to Celty? She could take care of it, and Izaya could stay warm.

Then, as if Karma wanted an extra laugh, a fierce gust of wind catches him from behind, thrusting him over the edge. His smile is dropped from his face and his eyes widen in shock, but no one is around to see it. He's tumbling headfirst over the edge and there's nothing he can do to stop himself.

There's nothing that can save him and slow his plight. A shock of dark indigo greets him and grabs him with its covetous wet fingers. He fights through the water it greedily sucks him in. He stiffens automatically and his chest compresses against the cold.

Fighting the urge to let himself float toward the surface where oxygen lay, Izaya kicks his legs and propels himself through the thick water. He curses himself for not taking a proper breath of air while he had the chance.

The informant opens his eyes into slits, his vision is hazy, but it's hard to miss the iridescent blur that could only be one thing. He claws through the water speedily and easily reaches his prize. He grasps Shizuo by the armpits and heaves upward, kicking his legs out. He lets only the necessary amount of expensive air escape though his nose.

He's going slow, too slow, especially now with the additional weight. This was when he needed his speed the most, and it was failing him. His lungs screamed for air, burning in his chest. He can feel them contracting against themselves when he has nothing to offer them, nothing to relieve him of this pressure that was constantly at his side, crushing him.

Shizuo is a dead weight in his arms and his head flops to the side as Izaya attempts to adjust his grip. The informant's arms meet around Shizuo's broad chest, and Izaya hugs the blonde to his person, teeth clenching in exertion. Lightheadedness swamps over him, his legs pump slower. His will to live lessens, sways and falters.

Why are you so heavy?

He can see the surface; it's so close and yet so far away. He could touch if is he extended his arm, but he fears his prize would slip out from under him is he let go for just a second. He can't do this. He's thrown his life away. He's losing his grip…

Shizuo is sliding out from his grasp and Izaya clutches him against his chest harder, screws his eyes shut and wills every ounce of willpower that he has into his legs. He summons every drop of energy he has and uses it to break the surface. He wheezes as he draws in air.

He spends a moment there, panting, breathing, alive, albeit drenched and cold like he's never been before.

He adjusts his hold on the man who had sought to kill him, propping him above the water though he knows it won't do any good. What a fool he was. His legs start to ache; he paddles towards the thin strip of land that served as a shoreline.

Weakly he hauls Shizuo towards land, his breath coming out in short gasps. He reaches his destination and collapses on the ground, fading in and out of consciousness.

His head was spinning with all of the renewed oxygen. He lays there, on his front, his head tilted to the side. He listens to his raspy breath, relishing the feel of air in his lungs once more. He lays there, limp and shaking, waiting for energy to come bounding back after the adrenaline rush.

He does not know how much time has passed, how long he lay there, trembling and chilled to the bone and happy just to breathe again. He wriggles his toes and fingers and is unsatisfied with how long it took them to respond. He felt sluggish, and the only thing he wants right now is sleep. It's warm on his eyelids and he can hear its seductive purr in his ears, lulling him into a restful sleep.

He forces himself to his knees and elbows, knowing that he needed to keep his blood pumping because if he fell asleep now he knew he wouldn't wake up again. He needed to move. He gazes up at the man he had foolishly tried to save. One look tells him enough. He was too late.

I wasn't enough to keep you alive.

That way of thinking was unheard of for someone like Izaya. Someone who shouldn't be shaken by such a petty lose as the one before him. Izaya wants to play with Shizuo, push him around and test his limits. So why was he feeling so quaked at this event? Why was he taking this as a personal defeat? This had nothing to do with him.

This was Shizuo, the stubborn, angry protozoan and Izaya wasn't supposed to care about what happened to him, just as long as he met his demise one way or another so Izaya could walk around Ikebukuro as many times as he pleased.

Izaya groggily heaves himself over to the blonde, placing a cold hand on the only patch of skin available beside his face, his hand. Shizuo's white skin felt cool and alien under his clammy hand and he doesn't need to take a pulse to know that there will be none.

His trembling accelerated until his teeth are chattering in his skull and Izaya wants nothing more than to curl up into a ball and laugh and cry at the same time. Everything is too bright in Izaya's wide eyes. Izaya squeezes Shizuo's hand in his, willing life and warmth back into it. Shizuo's pale skin seems to radiate the cold, as if someone was blowing a fan over them and chasing away all warmth that once lived there.

"Shizu-chan." Izaya croaks pitifully.

He doesn't need to see the ashen hue on his enemies face to know that he was gone. He didn't need to see his blue tinged lips to know that he was dead. He didn't need to keep denying it, repeating it in his head like a mantra until the words are too jumbled together to tell apart.

Until he knows nothing more than the fact that Shizuo was dead and that's all he ever would be. He didn't need to keep clutching Shizuo's hand in his like it might make a difference, like his desperately repeated words might come true and Shizuo would sit up and ask him what the hell he thought he was going, holding his hand like that.

And then Izaya would sit up and laugh nervously, unstable with relief though he won't admit it for the life of him. He would lie and smirk and hope that somebody somewhere out there would believe him.

You're so cold… I don't have enough warmth for you

Shizuo lost his sunglasses in the water, Izaya noted dully. Shizuo lost his life in the water. The informant wants to lay there forever and silently command Shizuo to be awake and full of life and anger again. Izaya knows he must move of he'll get sick, if not worse. Whether from shock or grief or pneumonia or all three combined, he does not know. His shivering doesn't stop and he can barely stand, but he finds a way, somehow.

It's all too much

But Izaya finds the strength from somewhere deep down in a reserve he didn't know he had, he staggers up the hill, crawling some of the way and stumbling for the most. He finds a resolve in a heart he didn't know he had, He struggles up to where his phone and jacket lay, along with other meaningless items that he had deemed important enough to shed from his person before he plunged into the water a few minutes ago.

While Shizuo was spending his last moments on earth, he was standing oblivious to the simple yet cruel twist of fate that lay ahead. A couple of minutes ago, Izaya had felt like he was on top of the world and why he had thought it would be a good idea to lead Shizuo to Tokyo Bay, it will remain a mystery, in which he is confident that he will never truly understand. A stupid move on his part, and someone like Izaya can't afford to make stupid moves.

You really messed up this time

A slip up could mean death, a plan not thought out could spell disaster, and a few words slipped could destroy everything he had worked so hard to build, send it all crumbling down, spiraling into tragedy and chaos. Izaya's theory rings true once again, after all, he is never wrong.

He flips open his cellphone blindly and text the first and only number that comes to mind at a time like this.

[Come here. It's important.]

He doesn't give details. She'll figure it out when she gets here. She'll find out how Izaya finally did it. She arrives within minutes, and Izaya takes note of her cautious approach.

She takes in his soaked appearance, and although Izaya cannot read her as well as Shinra can, he knows she is surprised, intrigued even. Celty cocks her non-existent head, wordlessly asking the question that Izaya knows is inevitable. He glared into her helmet steadily, eyes cold and dead and his infamous smirk not in place.

"I did it." He rasped emotionlessly. "I killed him."

She recoils a bit, her shoulders became rigid. He knows she will see him in a new light, if she ever decides to trust him again. Probably not. He is a murderer. Izaya turns to the bay that silenced the Fortissimo of Ikebukuro, smothered him, trapped him, suffocated him, strangled him, choked the life out of him.

He turns his head as Celty appears in his line of vision; she keeps a wary few steps back, lingering in uncertainty. But he gets it. He must admit that he's a little disgusted with himself, but it doesn't matter. They should know not to trust him by now.

The duo gazes down on Shizuo's still body. He turns as she shoves her PDA in his face; he takes his time in reading it, his expression unchanging.

[What happened?]

He turns away, glowering at his feet. "He was chasing me and I led him into the bay and he fell in…" How was I supposed to know he couldn't swim?

He does not know what she is thinking. A frosty breath of wind swirls around them and it is almost enough to bowl the informant over. He fights of the darkness enshrouding his vision, swaying slightly on his heels as exhaustion takes root.

He can feel her black tendrils wrapping around him, forming a jacket and helmet. He scoffed at her half-heartedly but complied her silent instructions. Celty walks ahead of him and he glances back, allowing remorse to flood his gaze for a moment.

He shakes it off and follows her to her motorcycle, but the heavy feeling in his heart does not lift. He boards her motorcycle. She turns to show him her PDA, and he can feel her sorrow in the air.

[I'll come back for him later; you're going to get sick]

He said nothing as she started her engine, but quickly found that the speed of the motorcycle was too much for him, his head spinning, he wrapped his arms around her for balance. He felt her stiffen in his arms but he does not pull away. His mind if full of his regret as the city whirls by them, a blur of colors and sounds. Izaya closes his eyes.

I'm sorry Shizuo; you weren't supposed to die that way.

For everything he knew, for all the information he collection he did not know that Shizuo could not swim. If knowing could have kept him alive long enough for him to die a "proper" death, the way a legend of a city could, the way Izaya planned it, the way that was worthy of him, that ensured that people would honor his name.

But Izaya had failed in that task, and if that small bit of knowledge could have been enough to save him, than Izaya would rather live a bitter life knowing than a peaceful one oblivious.

Because sometimes, ignorance is not bliss.