It was out of the ordinary, really— for him to be wearing something else other than his usual bartender getup or the white t-shirt and a pair of track pants when he's home, slurping away on cup ramen with milk on the coffee table to help him sleep. This time, he was all set in a black suit, blue bowtie and a dress shirt. His hair was even gelled up and swept to the side. He'd thought that he needed to dress up for the occasion, even losing his favorite sunglasses because Tom said that it wasn't appropriate since he could look arrogant; Shizuo didn't want her to think that way of him.
"At least I'm here first, right? That's what Kasuka said," he was nervous, finger fiddling with the wine glass in front of him.
Ten minutes had passed.
The girl that he had been chatting with online was still not here, which made him briefly wonder if there was a traffic problem or she'd accidentally run into some problems (for example, a bunch of rowdy boys bothering her). If it was the latter, Shizuo definitely wanted to be there to help her. Either way, he'd wait. Patience wasn't really something he had much of, but the least he could do was try.
Shizuo reached for another glass of wine that had been refilled.
It tasted okay. He preferred sake, though.
Thirty minutes had passed.
Shizuo counted the times the waiter came to ask him whether he was ready to order, the order book almost shoved into his face with each progressing time. It was getting on his nerves too that he actually ended up raising his voice at the man. He wasn't sure if the waiter knew who he was, though if he didn't, he knew now from looking at the wrinkles between his brows when his face contorted in anger, jaw clenching as he held himself back from chucking the table across the room. That expression was probably what he was remembered by to the people in Ikebukuro.
Heiwajima Shizuo going on a date?
It was unheard of, sure, but there was no need for there to be whispers about it among the staffs.
He had ears too.
And he'd stab them with a fork if they continued to talk shit behind his back.
An hour had passed.
It was his limit. Now everyone else's partners had already arrived, and they were enjoying their dinner, with their fancy food which half of the names were so foreign and complicated that Shizuo couldn't pronounce them. Some that he could were spaghetti, affogato (Kasuka taught him how to pronounce it when he took Shizuo out for this, saying he'd love it since it had ice cream) and pizza. Meanwhile, no plates were on his table. He was tempted, though, to just order something but this restaurant was expensive and if he was going to buy something for himself, he'd rather just go to Russia Sushi or the hamburger restaurant. This kind of money should only be spent on something big and special, like this date, if it would actually happen.
The girl had probably played him, or she'd come strolling in to see the monster of Ikebukuro sitting at the spot where her date should be at, and fled right off before he could see her. She could've messaged him saying something came up, anything— so he could go home and tick it off on his list as an another unsuccessful attempt at love.
Vorona told him that he should wait for at least an hour since apparently girls took long to get ready so they could look perfect for their date, and they preferred to make the guys wait (it'd be more embarrassing for the girls to arrive first and wait). Well, she read that in a magazine, but it probably applied. Shizuo wasn't sure why Vorona's expression was solemn when she said it, though. Perhaps she already knew that he'd be stood up?
"Sorry that I'm late, Shizu-chan. Shiki-san wanted me to add more information to the work documents he requested."
Shizuo was ready to get back up on his feet and take his wallet out to pay for all the wine he'd been drinking (which would probably cost a lot, he could already imagine it), but before he could, a familiar man he recognized so well sat right in front of him like he belonged there. And of course, he was also all suited up like Shizuo was, only with a red bowtie. The smile on Izaya's face was different from the smirk he flashed so often at Shizuo, now appearing all sweet albeit being absolutely fake. (It was a relief that Shizuo failed to notice the way Izaya uttered the 'chan' part, which was with a more cutesy, high-pitched tone that was probably intended on his behalf.)
"What are you doing here?" the usual long drawl of Izaya's name threatened to come out, his hands already shaking. It was almost like he needed to grab something to throw at Izaya's face to calm his nerves.
"Whoever that was supposed to show up clearly didn't. She ran out so fast on her heels when she saw you. I decided to save you from the humiliation. Aren't I so kind?"
"I'm more embarrassed that people think I'm having a shitty flea as my date. Wait— How'd you know that, aah? Were you following me?"
"It's not that hard to, Shizu-chan. Look," Izaya took his phone out, and true to his words, there were row after row of articles with his name on the headlines, more specifically 'Heiwajima Shizuo being stood up', 'Shizuo is on a date? Who's the date?' and many more, "and please, I'm so much more goodlooking than her. Shizu-chan should be pleased to have me accompany him."
There was no hesitation displayed when Izaya sipped on his wine, not at all bothered by the fact that he was drinking from Shizuo's glass.
"Mm. They gave you this? It's alright, but not that good if you want a successful date. Don't worry, I'll ask for a better one."
Shizuo didn't know what to say, head already hurting from the very moment his gaze met those crimson eyes, and yes, it'd be good to have a drink so he wouldn't argue with that. The reason he was still here and not trashing this place by having a fight with Izaya, or out there chasing Izaya? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he really wanted to take that wine glass and break it on Izaya's head when Izaya rested his cheek in his palm, head tipped to the side with a small smile and said these next words.
"So tell me, how was your day, baby?"