Disclaimer: Nope, I do not own DRRR!
The Blame Game
No.
No, there was no possible way that... That...
Hands shaking at his sides from barely restrained rage, Heiwajima Shizuo couldn't help but look into his rather bare fridge with a mix of horror and something akin to sorrow, though both feelings were brutally overwhelmed by his pure anger.
How could this have happened? He had stocked up not a day ago, the image of the nervously twitching cashier woman still heavily embedded in his mind.
Then how – just goddamn how – could he possibly be out of...of...milk?
It just wasn't possible! It was completely illogical!
Steeling his shaking hands, Shizuo closed the fridge door with a heavy sigh, the poor handle cracking pitifully in his harsh grasp and ending up collapsing to the floor once he finally let go.
Backing away from his fridge, the blond debt collector leaned back against the cupboards heavily, suddenly feeling vertigo mix in with his anger. To any outsider the blond's actions would be deemed an overreaction (quietly of course, since said outsider would most likely still know of the ex-bartender's monstrous strength), but to Shizuo his milk was precious. Like blood, it kept him thriving and pumped up for when the obnoxious flea-
Shizuo's eyes promptly widened in realization.
The fucking flea! How had he not crossed his mind during such a horrible dilemma? The dastardly little insect was an informant so it was obvious for him to know of his need for milk...
And he had attended Raijin Academy alongside Shizuo, therefore had bore witness to the blond's love of milk during lunch...
Yes, of course, it all made perfect sense now!
Pushing himself off the cupboards with a little more force than necessary, and leaving the very visible cracks and splinters to prove so, Shizuo took off right through his front door with a roar.
"IZAYAAAAAA!"
Meanwhile, in Shinjuku, a certain raven haired informant couldn't help the subtle shiver that attacked his spine. He had a bad feeling something was going to happen...
Something most likely involving a fully enraged blond debt collector that, no matter what the informant would say, would remain thoroughly convinced he had somehow controlled the sun and thus melted his strawberry milkshake.
And somehow managed to make him run out of cigarettes (okay, he was indirectly responsible for that, but still!).
And fiddled with his super glue so that it wouldn't work.
Standing from behind his desk, the raven haired male went to open his apartment door.
He didn't want to replace it for the fourth time that week, after all.
Author's Note: And that is the end, my dear readers. This was typed up for ArAnCaR No. 6, an awesome person who manages to sit and read my constant rants and raves. So, yes, she's awesomely awesome... Prussia level awesome, even! This is one of the two mini-fills I owe her... I hope you liked it, dearie! Ah, but the question remains, what happened to Shizu-chan's milk? I say he drank it all and forgot.