While in the middle of writing another fic, this story suddenly demanded to be written. I have...ideas about where it's going to go, but for the most part it is writing itself. This makes it difficult to know how to categorize it, but I do know that overall, this is going to be an Izaya-centric fic. Cause I like villains. :P
.
.
.
The night holds secrets. Deep, permeating secrets of the kind that cannot be uttered aloud, only permitted to drift unassumingly through the atmosphere, leaving behind stale apparitions of what was and what is to be. For it is in those hours unaccompanied by sunlight that the truest of all crimes are committed. When lives are shattered like delicate glass, when souls are corrupted into puddles of black poison oil spills, when perception and sanity is shifted past the point of no return. Under cover of darkness, the true monsters come out of hiding. Some slither or crawl or creep, but the worst...the very worst...they walk.
.
.
"I love humanity! The entire human race, I love them so much!" The words burst forth from grinning lips, unable to remain contained any longer. The slim figure giggled maniacally as he spun himself around and around on the spiraling desk chair, the movement ruffling short, black hair in the process.
The shadowy outline of a female appeared in the doorway, grasping a small purse against her side. Her voice was the embodiment of disinterest. "I've finished all the paperwork. I'm going home."
The petite form in the chair continued to rocket around in circles, laughing to himself and seemingly oblivious to the conversation. Namie remained in the doorway, watching him as he spun around in the fashion of a retarded toddler, sighing quietly to herself. Her thoughts turned to the time, and the growing number of tasks still lined up for the evening that she had wanted to accomplish. The sun had set hours before, despite the fact that Izaya had promised earlier that she would be off by three or four.
He kept me here late because he knew I had things to do. All of the pointless requests he kept adding on as the day grew later...she was almost certain Izaya was just coming up with them to fuck with her. Eyes cold as she watched him, she nonetheless held her composure. Part out of pride and a narcissistic sense of appearing unaffected by his antics ('superior', she felt herself thinking), and part out of a deeper sense of caution and self-preservation. Because when it came to narcissism, she was good...but he was better. His went beyond the standard self-absorption and ego-driven behavior into something much deeper, something that bordered on psychosis. And as someone who knew how to control others and get what she wanted, she also knew when to step back and wait for the right time. One day, he would get what was due to him...but only at the right time. Because one false move meant clear and instant death. Or if she was unlucky, perhaps a not-so-instant one.
She held her stance.
The chair made creaking sounds as it continued on its circular path. Without warning, a pale hand shot out and grabbed onto the desk, stopping the chair's movement in one violent jerking motion. Izaya stared out across the vast room at his secretary, reddish-tinted gaze never once succumbing to the results of vertigo. Where many would be left dry-heaving in dizziness from the ride, he simply sat there, knees pulled up against his chest, and stared. The frenzied laughter had stopped as abruptly as the chair, but his grin remained. "Leaving so soon, Namie-chan?" He shot her his most charming, innocent expression.
Deciding to just ignore his bullshit, she threw the straps of her purse around her shoulder decisively and simply stated, "yes. I'm leaving now."
"Hmm..." Izaya tilted his head and pursed his lips in mocked disappointed. "But what about all of the important things I had to have done?"
"It's all finished. I'm sure you'll find everything completed to your satisfaction." Her voice was emotionless, containing none of the hate that she felt for the black-clad boy sitting in front of her.
He continued looking at her, and for a second she wondered if it was possible that he knew what she was thinking. That those eyes, so often filled with enthusiasm, yet at the same time seeming to hold nothing of human emotion, were capable of prying into the heads of his human playthings. She shifted her gaze slightly and he giggled, as if knowing that he'd won the fight. "Ah, well all right then. You can go if you really want to." he paused, and then added, "take the next two days off, Namie-chan."
Her eyes widened in surprise. "Two days?" She couldn't help but wonder if he was planning something. Trust was never one of her strong points, especially with Izaya.
"Forty eight hours. Well, technically more than that, because of the night.." he tapped his watch, brows furrowed. "But you don't need to be back here until Friday morning. I'll try to get by on my own without you." he put a hand dramatically up to his forehead.
"I'm sure you'll manage," she responded, going through lists in her head of all the tasks she'd be able to accomplish. "You managed to do everything else on your own before you hired me."
And then there was that grin again. She called it evil personified, but to him to was just a grin. "Namie-san is so good to me!"
"Yes, well...that's my job, isn't it?" she fished her keys out of the dark clutches of the purse, hoping that she could get out of Izaya's apartment in as timely a manner as possible. Her statement hadn't been said in order to stroke the crazy man's ego, rather a remark about the oddity of him hiring her in the first place. Despite being completely certifiable, he was annoyingly competent in most aspects of life. She was pretty sure that he had hired her not out of any actual need, but for the sole purpose of tormenting her
"Hmm, yes," he was fiddling with a small chess piece now. From where it had appeared, she had no idea. His voice was distant now, seeming almost lost. But she knew better. Izaya was never, ever lost. Only periodically caught in between his last move and his next. Like a game. So fitting that he was currently holding a chess piece..
In a final attempt to leave, Namie spoke again. "There's a fresh batch of soup in the fridge. I made a lot so there should be enough until Friday if you want it." She doubted he would eat it. When she had first started working for Izaya, she had seriously considered throwing a serving of rat poison into his food. That would have been fitting. She never did it, but always wondered what would have happened if she had. Would he have somehow known and come after her? Disposed of her in some messy way? Or would he have eaten it and somehow survived regardless? She almost figured the latter would be most accurate. You can't kill the devil, after all. So she never did it, although she rarely saw him eat anyway. Which brought up a whole 'nother slew of assumptions in itself. Perhaps the devil doesn't need to eat.
Izaya interrupted her thoughts."Thank you, I'm sure it's delicious." He put the chess piece down on the desk in front of him and looked up at her again. "You are an interesting person, Namie-san. Humans are so very interesting, aren't they?"
She shivered at his words and simply nodded slowly. How do you respond to that?
He flashed another grin - evil personified - and waved her out. "Friday, then?"
.
.
.
Comments are love. Let me know what you think so far?
