A/N: Durarara! and its characters does not belong to me. But I wish it did. Especially Izaya and Shizuo, my bbies. c:


Dark eyes, gazing upon him sorrow, pity and something else. (was it love?) A pale, trembling hand stroking his cheek as the other gripped his hand with such ferocity that his fingers might have shattered beneath her hold.

..

"Where are you?"

..

Confusion. Anger. Sorrow. Despair.

Such bone-chilling despair in which it ate away at his heart and soul and bewilderment in which everything was no longer understood.

..

"I don't know."

..

A confession that should be bitter, but was only laced with heart-wrenching guilt. How could he not know? How and why? Such terrible emptiness. It was an emptiness he wanted to fill, but he didn't know how.

A weary smile with defeat etched within was then delivered his way. She was so painfully familiar, she smelled and felt like home.

Their hearts beat in sync, and a final farewell.

..

"Please, return to me."

..

Return? To whom? To where? And when?

He wasn't lost. Or was he?

Panic. Full-blown anxiety, This wasn't how things was supposed to turn out. A scream, and he realized it was coming from his own lips. The wind ripping, tearing, howling sinking their claws into his skin and soul as the pale-faced woman with porcelain skin unraveled away into the distance, taken away by the mist.

..

A chuckle, and a hand that was

rough descended upon his shoulder.

.

"From now on, you're mine, Izaya-kun."

.

He was trapped

chained

branded

bound

and

..

His eyes snapped open.


A loud, maniacal laugh. His vermillion eyes closed as he smiled, knuckles whitening over the tight grip on his sharpened switchblade.

"You idiots."

Two small words, uttered in the sudden dead silence. Two meaningless words, laced with annoyance (and was it something else?). The men stood there, their stances loose and confident. The fools, that'll be their own downfall, Izaya thought as his hand tightened further on the knife.

"What, are you jealous that we could take him down and you couldn't?" One of the men mocked, acting as though as the informant's sudden appearance hadn't surprised them. Izaya was disgusted. Such filthy human beings-with greasy skin and clumsy, shaking hands handling weapons and ragged bandannas tied around their necks and bony joints, with rusted rings digging into the skin. They reeked. They reeked of all things that were humans-corruption and hatred and revenge.

"'sides, I thought you'd prefer him dead," someone else drawled out.

His back straightened up and he popped his neck, a predatory smile appearing on his lips. His free hand was clenching and unclenching, the muscles and the bones flexing. Yes. That was tempting. He could just leave him to die. He wanted him dead, after all-then he'd finally have free reign over this city. He would be able to do whatever he wanted to do.

...Yes. The very thought of it was enticing and-

"Is that so?" The smile sharpened into a jagged smirk, and his eyes blazed into the darkness. "Is that so," his voice came out, soft and deadly, poised to strike with all its own being. This was so fun, oh so fun! He would have them groveling at his feet like the pathetic humans they truly were when facing a God.

A pause, and a stutter. "Y-You do want him dead, right? You hate him!" They were panicking, wondering if they were going to die today and Izaya laughed at the cold sweat dripping down the sides of their forehead. Fear hung heavily in the air. Yes-he loved humans! He loved how cowardly they truly were, beneath all of their bravery.

And so he smiled, as the men paled. He inhaled, imagining that he could smell the delicious scent of fear. Something inside of him was breaking, snapping in all its insanity and-

"Make no mistake, I do hate him." A hoarse chuckle came, "But he is mine." A possessive whisper. "He is my toy, my prey, my monster! He'll only live as long as I see fit, and when he dies... it's going to be by my own hands, not anyone else's. You've overstepped your boundaries as my humans." His eyes shone dangerously into the darkness, his tongue wetting his lips in anticipation.

"Like hell we're your humans! You're crazy!" The leader yelled back defiantly, the knives bristling and metal bars dipping threateningly. Ah, so they had decided to put on a brave front. Izaya wanted to laugh. They had dared to touch his monster, to stain their hands with his blood and yet they had the audacity to look him in the eyes as if they were his equal!

A chuckle came in response as his finger flicked over the hidden blade's edge, and a small crimson bead of blood was drawn. "Like I haven't heard that before."

Yes. He would destroy them.

His head dipped downwards as he ducked, the metal bar barely missing its mark. A strangled scream came as he yanked his knife out of the culprit's leg, red dripping from the blade. A exhilarated smile blossomed on his face along with a laugh as his switchblade flashed out, jabbing his next attacker into the arm and causing him to drop his knife. An outraged cry came, and he was then simultaneously caught up into a dangerous dance of his own; duck the sweep of a metal bar, dodge a punch, step forwards to slice at skin, lean backwards to avoid the stab of a knife, twist backwards to jab them at their sides, and confuse them as much as possible. They were such a disorganized bunch.

But this-this was what he lived for! A jab of the elbow into the ribcage, conjuring up a loud crack and a scream. The squelching of blood and a gurgle as the switchblade was yanked out of the stomach, and the stomping of his heel upon clawing fingers. A smash of the handle into the mouth, and the last man standing let out a pain-filled scream as he clapped his hands over his mouth, the blood dripping out between the cracks of the fingers. Several teeth were spat out, and laughter filled the air as the man looked up at the red-eyed man with wide eyes before passing out from lack of blood. This was glorious-standing atop your fallen adversary, and having them know that their very own pathetic lives were in your hands.

He couldn't help but to wonder if this was what it would feel like once he finally had Shizu-chan at his mercy. He hoped so.

The crimson liquid was flicked off the gleaming blade with a swift twist to the wrist. He panted slightly, a light sheen of sweat coated his forehead, his dark hair sticking to the skin. His head tilted back, his fingers raking through the dark tresses of his hair. Shizuo's bartender outfit was completely ruined-the white shirt blemished with dirt and soot as well as crimson, the tux bloodied. He was gagged, firmly bound, and undoubtedly drugged with an extremely strong tranquilizer that probably had been strong enough to knock out a horse-possibly even kill it-it was the only explanation as to why Shizuo wasn't currently on some kind of roaring rampage at the sight of his face. He was bloodied and beaten up, his face oddly calm.

Izaya couldn't fathom the tightness which had wrapped itself around his chest. He inhaled and exhaled, closing his eyes to deter himself of the disgusting sight. A smirk tugged at his lips.

Damn it Shizu-chan, he thought with poisonous amusement.

Don't pretend to be human.

His chest rose and fell with each wheezing breath, and Izaya deduced that Shizuo had broken a rib, possibly even punctured a lung. He contemplated taking a knife to Shizuo's throat just so he wouldn't have to listen to his labored breathing anymore.

"Well, well Shizu-chan," he breathed. "Who would've thought that a beast like you... would be taken down by a bunch of mortals," his voice dripped with disdain. A flicker of a malicious smile, and he crouched down, his arms resting on his knees. "How wonderfully amusing... and pathetic."

"Ne, ne, Shizu-chan. How does it feel, to be completely at my mercy?"

No response, and he pouted slightly as the edge of the knife scraped across Shizuo's strong jawline. His heartbeat quickened and his hands trembled with anticipation. He wiped his hands across the fabric of his furred jacket, getting rid of the clammy sweat.

"You know, this would be a lot more fun if you were awake." The tip jabbed into the skin of his throat, drawing blood. Well, he wasn't entirely opposed to killing his enemy when he was down. It would save him the trouble of having to face him at his full strength. Shizu-chan was so troublesome, after all. He pushed himself up, and backed away. The switchblade twirled in his fingers as he raised it to eye-level, the tip of the blade pointing at Shizuo's unconscious figure.

"Let's play a game... hmm? You'll be the target. The first one to hit the target wins!" He laughed erratically as his weapon flew from his hands in a smooth, fluid motion.

The blade embedded itself slightly into the wall right next to Shizuo. Izaya swallowed, a palm pressed over his chest to calm down his rapidly beating heart. His mouth was dry, and then his eyes narrowed.

"How strange. I'm usually a very good shot..." He chuckled. "Could it be that I missed on purpose? How absurd!" Making his way across, he bent down to pick up his switchblade. A faint groan emitted from the blonde, and he stiffened slightly, turning to glance at him out of the corner of his narrowed eyes.

He was certain that any minute now, Shizuo's eyes would snap open and he would be crushed beneath the hands of a monster. That most certainly was a death fitting for a fool. Maybe if he was quick enough, he'd get off free with just a couple broken bones. Instead, he was met with the sight of a still unconscious blonde and he gasped for breath, wondering when he had stopped breathing. A slight furrow marred Shizuo's forehead, giving off a slightly pained expression. Izaya felt foolish- as if a god would ever die by the hands of a monster!

"That expression suits you." His index finger sought to smooth out the furrows etched within the sleeping beast's forehead, to no avail. Izaya chuckled slightly when Shizuo frowned some more in displeasure.

"I never want to see you making any other face than that. Got that, ne?"

Crouching once again, his free hand cupped the blond's face and the thumb brushed lightly across a cheekbone. His fingers traced the sharp angles and contours of the unconscious blonde's face. Shizuo's skin was... oddly soft, he thought distantly as he rubbed a palm lightly across the stubble of his chin. He had never been this close to Shizuo before without the other wanting to kill him, and he smirked at that.

"I should kill you. I want to kill you. I need to kill you, then there'll be no one to stand in my way... but that would make things a bit boring, wouldn't it?" The corner of his lip curled in disdain, and his nails dug into the skin and leaving reddened marks behind.

"You look so disgustingly human like this." He whispered, "It doesn't suit you." His heart was thudding against his chest, and his eyes closed as he took deep breaths. His fist flattened out, the palm pressing against the ground as his forehead rested upon Shizuo's, their breath mingling.

"You see, if I am to kill you... you must remain a monster." The words rang bitterly, as he pushed himself off the ground. His fist clenched around his cell phone, the knuckles whitening.

"I'm going to play with you a little more." Bringing up his phone to his ears, he dialed the first number on his speed-dial. His heart beat faster with each minute the person on the other end didn't pick up. His fingers curled into a fist. Where was he when Izaya needed him-

"Izaya! You've just disturbed my night with my wonderful Celty and-"

Izaya breathed a silent sigh of shaky relief, closing his eyes and pressing a palm to his forehead to ward off an oncoming headache. "Shinra? I had a little run-in with a certain monster... no," He snorted at Shinra's dramatic wail, "I'm perfectly all right."

What a joke-as if Shinra even cared about him.

"Just send Celty over here."

He sighed as the phone was slipped back into his pocket, preparing to wait for the familiar whinnying neigh that was the Headless Rider's motorcycle. He rocked back on his heels, eyes gazing up into the sky. His frame sagged considerably, much of the tension from earlier gone as he balanced the blade in his palm.

He should've killed Shizu-chan.