He always hated the hospital.
So many wires, so many things to get tangled up in without meaning to.
So many people, that all reeked of death.
Doomed existances, every single one of them.
Of course, there was also the recoverable injuries, the injuries like broken legs or arms, or maybe just a light heart attack.
But where he was going, there was no recovery. There was just people, dying, dying of things that they did or didn't deserve.
It was almost funny.
His footsteps seemed so loud. He could hear IV's dripping, hear the agony in death, hear the silent song of misery and hate and pity and defiance. But he didn't hear what he wanted to hear.
He didn't hear the shouts and screams of Ikebukuro's monster.
He didn't hear them at all.
Tick-tack, tick-tack, his footsteps light on the tile floor. It was just imagination that they went faster, that the noise erupting from them was louder, that the person in those shoes was running. All of it, just an illusion.
The door was open on a hindge, and the sound of nothing was scarier then the sound of everything.
He peered into the doorway. What else could he do?
"Izaya...?" A doctor in white, facing a motorist in black; both staring down at the body of a blond.
There was no movement; the harshest reality made clear.
"...Ahahaha." A sort of laugh. Forced out of a mouth, forced out of a mind, forced into the dead air.
Very dead air.
...This isn't right. This isn't even wrong.
Shinra could only think that, as the laughter grew in size and sound.
"Ahhhhhhhhhhahahahahahahaha! He finally ended! Ikebukuro is finally free of it's famous monster!" Clutched sides, harsh laughter.
"It took long enough, that fatal ending! I wonder how much pain went into him as it happened! Ohhhh godddd...He's gone! Gone!"
Only a madman could laugh so much.
"...No pain." Shinra whispered.
"What?"
"I made it as painless as possible. And Izaya..." Shinra reached over to a piece of paper, located on the desk next to the dead, "...He wanted you to-"
The room lost a person.
Izaya didn't want last words, left from someone who obviously, hated him. He didn't want the memories to resurface so easily, he didn't want to dare admit to the fact that Shizuo had ever been a part of his life.
But being hollow inside never felt quite like this.
He'd never been very full of anything, truth be told. He'd always held an emptiness in him, something that he distincted as 'god-like'. He was different, he was special, he was better then anyone. The hole in him made him more controlled then others. It made him precise.
But hollow never felt like this.
His insides weren't there. His body wasn't there. HE wasn't there. There wasn't any proof he even existed in this space, in this time. He had nothing, nothing to keep him to this place, nothing to make sure his name went down and stayed forever.Shizuo had all of that. From the broken signs to the bolts on the vending machines, no one would forget Shizuo.
So, how to compete when he was dead?
How could he live not having anyone to hold him down and keep him in reality, so he didn't just float away with the gods?
How could he live without his-
Oh, Izaya knew!
He knew!
He would orchestrate his own fabulous death!
His own fabulous end!
He would be in control, even in the end! He'd win!
If he couldn't cause Celty's head to give him what he'd want, he'd take the next option!
And so his heart gave itself away to the cold.
Just one more click, and the stage would be set.
And then the doorbell rang.
Frowning, he rose and went to his door. A package sat outside it, plain and with only two stickers. One said, 'To Izaya', and the other said, 'From Shinra'.
He knew it could be a fake, and it could just explode in his face, but...
...He opened it anyways, expecting to be blown away.
Instead there was nothing, an anticlimax to what he had expected. Just a short note, a quick glance told him it was just Shinra, telling him something about Shizuo, and something else...
"...Shizzu-chan, you knew me, didn't you? Knew me inside somehow." Izaya felt that gaping hole again, and his empty laughter resounded.
Plain and simple, a silver chain, with a small black stone in the center, studded into the silver. It looked exactly like the hole Izaya felt.
He wrapped it around his arm, not taking the traditional way necklaces were worn.
He grinned.
If he was not going to die traditionally, why do anything traditionally?
"ORIHARA IZAYA, YOU'll REGRET THE DAY YOU EVER CROSSED US!"
Gunshots all over the place, Izaya ran, careful.
He couldn't let it seem like it was planned, now could he?
Planned from the start, to destroy himself.
He leapt, rooftop to rooftop, straight in the open, taunting his pursuers, waiting for it. Waiting for the gap he never was able to jump; so many people jumped off that gap.
There it was, in glory, calling to desperate souls.
A shadow swooped to help him, try to catch him, and Izaya pretended to reach for it-
-But really he pulled away. Away and away and further away and then there were gunshots and he was shot full of lead.
Shot full of lead. Every shot felt like the first one, every one filling the hole in his body, making a miracle called Death.
Miracles, miracles.
The world whirled in front of his eyes, and he swore he could see every moment of life passing by. He felt the silver chain break, the black stone shattering as it hit the floor with Izaya.
And then it ended.
"CELTY?"
Shinra busted into the room, panting and paniking. Another doctor and a policeman were speaking to Celty, a close distance, but also cautious.
"You're Shinra, I presume?"
"Yes, may I ask what happened?"
"It seems that Miss Celty was around at the time of his death."
His eyes widened. "Whose death?"
"Orihara Izaya."
Shinra felt as if he could have sank into the floor.
"Celty, what happened?"
"We've been trying to get her to speak to us, but it seems that she won't-"
"Celty can't speak, but if you let her have her PDA back-"
"Right right, we took it to look through it but it seems that Izaya only wanted her to be around at that time, nothing else."
"Celty. What happened?"
Shinra took autority in the moment of chaos. When the policeman had handed her back her PDA, she typed quickly with shaking fingers.
I-Izaya he had gotten incvolved with some yakuza business and he wanted me to get something for him but I'm not sure what and he said it's okay he'd have it onxce I was there and I had said alright and had been there and Izaya he looked so
"Celty, calm down a little, okay? You're typing too fast for us." Shinra soothed, trying to understand all that was being said as Celty shook.
Right...Right. Shinra, he looked so sad. He looked...I don't know the word for sure, but the best way to describe it was just empty. He was so, so empty. And when he jumped and I tried to help him he looked like he was reaching towards me but I think he was really pulling away Shinra I don't understand why he did that at all...
She started to shake again. Shinra gave her a hug, while the other doctor and the policeman stood back, taking in the information and making notes.
Shinra...If you see his body, it's...He was shot so many times, all the blood was flying through the air, and I couldn't even help him, I was just shocked, and then he fell, when he fell everything just; there was this horrible cracking noise and-
"I think, sir, if you don't mind, that I should take Celty home. She seems very broken about this." Shinra nodded to the policeman.
"I think that's fine, once we copy down everything that she's said. Err, typed." He was writing furiously.
"Also, can I look at the body? Izaya was a close friend of mine." Shinra pulled out a fake license, "And I am a certified doctor. I'd like...To do the autopsy."
"Well, I'm not sure if you can do that...Maybe." The doctor spoke up. "It depends on how involved you were in this case. It seems that Miss Celty didn't do much, but still..."
"Right, procedures." Shinra sighed.
Why Izaya...Right after Shizuo, really? You didn't even read the note I left, did you? That note that was written by Shizuo, directly for you.
When Celty and Shinra got home, both of them sat together on the couch, holding each other.
"Celty, I think...Things would've been different if Izaya read the damn note."
Celty looked at him, surprised. You don't think he read it?
"No. I guess he could've still done...That, even if he had read it, but...I don't know. I think it might have changed something."
I...Think so too. If he had known about everything...Maybe it would've been different. Since we don't know if he read it or not...
But it had ended.
Crimson-brown eyes, stained by tears, tears that fell to the ground
and golden-brown eyes, that had closed unwillingly
All of they were gone.
...
Oi, Shinra. This is my last words, since I have nothing else left to do here. I guess what I'm supposed to write is the "will" or something like that. It's not like I really have much to give though. Give Kasuka his outfits back. He gave them to me, he ought to do what he wants with them. Tell him I'm really sorry about this. I hope he'll be okay... Give Tom most of my other stuff. He mentioned needing a new couch and mine's in pretty nice condition for a shitty couch. Give him the phone too, it was never really mine to start with. I don't really know who else to say something to. Tell Kadota he and his wierdass group can have the manga stored in my room. It's not much but I mean, it's something. Man. There's only one person left, stupid flea, Izaya. I don't wanna mention the stupid flea in here, but I guess it's kinda necessary. Yeah. Shinra, give this out to people, you got that? I can't really speak, and I can tell that I'm dying. Somehow I'm not actually scared of that though. It's more like, there's something missing. So I guess that's it.
I'm gonna die. I think you know that though. No doing any sort of fucking experiments on me after I die, you hear?
This is my letter to you though; so what if I'm writing letters for everyone, there's nothing else left for me to do.
Like I said, no fucking experiments.
And thanks, I guess. For sticking around with me and helping me out when I needed it. Especially in high school. I thought I'd go crazy listening to you all the time, but it was...Kinda nice.
Geez, writing all this sappy stuff makes everything wierd.
I'm trusting you and Celty with all the letters I'm gonna write, and all that other junk, okay?
Thank Celty for me too. She really helped me out, thinking about stuff. I'm glad I got her as a friend. Make sure she stays okay, you got that?
Don't let his face fool you at the funeral. He's not going to cry there, but yanno' eventually it'll spill out. I hope. Ha. Tell him it's okay to be a little emotional about stuff, now that I'm not gonna be around.
Tell him thanks. For being my friend and all that. He probably knows. But he was pretty damn cool. Still is.
Flea, I hate you. I hate you more then I thought I could hate anybody but...
Thanks.
I don't really get it either flea, but I want to thank you.
Maybe it's because even though you made my life a fucking hell, you were around. I mean, I even ended up buying some stupid thing because it just...Looked like you. Shut up. It's stupid.
I left it in my drawer. The silver.
Meh, can't say much. Izaya, you hate me, I hate you. Simple, right? Except, now that I've got all the time in the fucking world to think about crap, I don't think I ever really hated you from the start.
Shit, I can't even say I didn't like you. Stupid, seeing as I'm the one who always screams at you.
But you know, Izaya...
...You weren't half bad when we couldn't fight. Sure you were annoying as hell and all. But I mean, you had some sort a...Thing. I don't fucking know. Nevermind.
You better not do some stupid shit like die. I said I'd kill you, and since that's not happening, you're not allowed to die. Like I'd want to see you in hell anyways.
The only good thing about this crappy sickness is that you can't kill me either.
Shizuo Heiwajima.
ANGST HNNNNGGG ;_; I don't really know what the hell happened here. Its like I just threw up anything that came to mind when I was writing this.
Everyone makes Izaya die, so I was like, "Go against grain" and made Shizuo die.
This is kinda...Wierd fic. I think. Lots of one-liner potentials, all shoved together. Don't know why, but I always write sentences that are great and have nowhere to go. I shoved maybe four of those kinds of sentences in this.
Don't own these peoples.