Izaya Orihara has dreamt of a marigold blond haired man with caramel brown eyes every night of his life since he was age appropriate for soul-mate dreams. Long before his first dream at fifteen, he's loathed the idea of fate deciding who he should be with, if anyone at all, and that he's got some ridiculous fairy tale ending predestined by the gods for him. But when his first dream actually hit, he couldn't deny how curious this other male made him. Izaya could fool himself very well, sometimes better than he did others, but for the lonely young man still experiencing the worst of puberty, fooling himself into thinking he didn't want someone that understood him at his best and worst was a difficult task.
The dreams aren't controllable, even for those that practice lucid dreaming. They're just memories and projections of images. For some dreamers, their soul-mate does absolutely nothing, standing as still as a statue. For others, their soul-mate could always be found doing something, like reading or walking. In Izaya's dreams, his soul-mate always finds him first, even when he actively searches for the them. It peeved the brunet quite a bit when he realized that it's his pattern. The other man would find him and would want to touch him in some manner. Holding hands, stroking his face, hugging, a particularly wet dream only progressed as far as kissing but was nonetheless embarrassing when he woke up to boxers stained with spunk. Izaya deduces that his soul-mate is the touchy-feely type and is probably actively searching for him. He has no way to know how he appears in their dreams, unless he meets and asks them himself.
At high school, Izaya recognizes the face of the man of his dreams from a distance. His legs are weak, staring down at the male from above. He's not sure if he really wants to approach, what will happen if he meets his destined? There are plenty of stories, the majority good but some nightmarish experiences exist among them. Shinra points the blond out as his friend and says that he wants to introduce them both.
Then Shinra does introduce him to Shizuo Heiwajima. Their eyes lock and the expected doesn't happen. All of the talk about butterflies or sparks or whatever flowery nonsense doesn't happen. Instead, Shizuo takes a hard swing at him and Izaya has to dodge. The brunet's stomach has never felt so tarry, his chest never so heavy. He feared suffocation as he fled from the beast on his heels.
After their first fight, Izaya gets himself dream suppressants. At best, his sleep is entirely dreamless. At worst, his dreams are massive blurs where he can't even recognize where he is, much less his soul-mate.
Izaya's soul-mate loathes him more than the brunet himself loathes the idea of being star-crossed with this monster. He's been utterly rejected and he refuses to acknowledge his own pain, refuses to make it seem real and himself human. If his own soul-mate seethes with hatred at the mention of his very name, then there really is no one that Izaya has to belong to or with.
Izaya Orihara goes about his life alone, with few if real emotional attachments at all. He makes ruining Shizuo Heiwajima's life his part-time hobby. Be it out of revenge for heartbreak or out of genuine hatred for the man, it doesn't matter to him any more. He should have known better, but he was young and still a bit foolishly minded with regards to his role in the world, but now he knows better. Izaya Orihara is alone, has always been alone, and is too much of a coward to ever do anything to change himself to possibly fix that because it means throwing his pathetic excuse of a heart out there to be stepped on.
Izaya's computer beeps with a message from Tsukumoya. It's a link with a simple sentence attached. "This should interest you greatly."
The URL alone tells the informant that it's to one of those soul-mate sketch forums. The names are always overly cliché and disgusting. It's long been common practice for people to hire sketch artists to draw out their descriptions of their soul-mates and then post the images hoping to find them. Newspapers have always had segments dedicated to them, and now the internet has made the search so much easier. Soul-mates found across countries were happening more and more and less lonely people were settling down when they couldn't find their soul-mate at first.
The link sends him straight to a specific post under the Japanese section and there, disbelievingly, is a detailed sketch of himself.
Izaya's fingers jerk away from his mouse and keys. His thinking is as frenzied as his heartbeat. Is this a joke? Why would someone do this? This is a poor attempt at humiliation if it is one at all. This can't be Shizu-chan's doing, he doesn't need to go looking for Izaya in this manner and why would the brute even bother?
It has never once occurred to Izaya that he might be wrong about figuring out what or, rather, who fate decided for him. Far too crushed, he didn't want to think about any of it at all.
Under his penciled image is some text in English: I'm looking for an Asian male. Presumably of Japanese nationality, going by my research into the school uniforms I remember.
There's only one response and Izaya knows that it's Tsukumoya before reading it. "That is Izaya Orihara," the reply states in English, even providing the correct kanji for his name, "famed informant of Shinjuku, Tokyo. As his business acquaintance, I can provide you with all of his necessary information, if you'd care to accept a private message."
Izaya's fingers tremble as they hover above the keys. His soul-mate is going to come looking for him whether he wants them to or not. If they find him, are they just going to stomp all over his weak heart once they figure what he's really like? He's petrified but at the same time curious. If the man in his dreams isn't Shizuo Heiwajima than who the hell is he? What kind of cosmic joke was being played on him if his enemy and soul-mate shared the same face? Was he actually going to feel some guilt over tormenting the blond bodyguard for reasons he never knew of, for things he never callously did?
Izaya exits the page when his hands calm down. Change is approaching rapidly, and his brain is bringing up every soul-mate horror story it can recall to force his fight-or-flight instincts into action. He's not sure if he wants to go looking, the revelation is enough for his mind right now, and regardless, if his soul-mate got his sketch done and posted it up, then they'll surely get his information from Tsukumoya anyway. Running if Tsukumoya is involved will be useless. Instead, he's going to meet Shinra and discuss some things.
"Wow. I mean, the way you described him, I was absolutely positive it was Shizuo. You're sure this isn't a joke or something, Izaya?"
The informant rolls his eyes. "What could they possibly gain from this? It just says that they're looking for me and presumed my nationality based on my old uniforms." Izaya does have wealth and good looks, but what good are they when everyone is more than happy to verbally express their repulsion to his personality? Then there's his job that puts many off, with or without the knowledge about his runnings with Yakuza. His soul-mate is probably learning everything about him right now from Tsukumoya or wherever Google takes them. "Pretending to be someone's soul-mate is impossible and I'm clearly not hiring anyone to be my fake for perception's sake."
"I guess you've got a point there," Shinra acquiesces as he continues to think about it. "Man, did they luck out with you." Izaya glares at his friend as he casually laughs.
He opens his mouth to speak, but then the door clicks open with the courier and Shinra's already flying out of his seat to latch onto the supernatural woman like a leech.
"Celty, my love! I've got interesting news! You might not believe it! Oh, well maybe you will. You never did believe me before. Oh, but how was your day first?" His words are pressed together like paperback novels between bookends.
"Shinra," Izaya says with a bored tone. He didn't expect this to be kept secret from her and Celty's trustworthy with the topic anyway.
Celty uses her shadows to type on her phone, hands preoccupied in getting the doctor off of her as he relentlessly tries to hug her tightly in greeting. "[What kind of news? Why is Izaya here?]"
"You were right, Celty! Shizuo's soul-mate isn't Izaya and Izaya's soul-mate posted to a sketch forum looking for him!"
The gloves dematerialize and her fingers twine with Shinra's to placate him. "[That's great!]" She's genuinely happy for the informant. As awful as he is and can be, he's still worthwhile for someone. Celty wants to believe that everyone deserves love, even if there are people that harshly grind against that belief. Maybe his soul-mate can distract him away from some of his horrendous hobbies and help even out his terrible personality, and Shizuo will get some much deserved peace too.
"[Did you respond?]"
"I didn't, no."
Celty stares at his blank expression for awhile before typing out, "[You're not going to talk to them at all? Find out who they are?]"
"Someone already replied with my information and I'm not the least bit interested in my destined," he spits distastefully. "So, if they want to come find me," Izaya leans forward on his heels, both hands in his coat pockets, "they can, but I'm not wasting my time on absurd things such as fate or destiny." He shrugs with his arms out, spreading his coat open wide as his hands stay in the pockets.
Izaya's sure they've all thought the same thing by now. Izaya's soul-mate would have to be stupid or insane to look for him after being briefed on him and his life. Any reasonable person would think the same. Who would want to be in so much constant danger once word gets out? Who would want to be with that madman?
Izaya leaves without another word to either of them, not wanting to discuss any of this absolute mess any more.
Two weeks of nothing passes, then three. No letters, no texts, no calls, no anything. Trepidation has been sitting in the pit of Izaya's stomach like a heavy stone since first seeing the post. It was utterly idiotic to have some sort of detestable hope and he can only blame himself for allowing his heart to want after all of the pain he's ever felt. What Izaya really wants is a hard drink right now.
"Tat-ta for now, dearest Namie," the brunet leisurely waves at his secretary as he walks out.
"Where do you think you're going without-" The door clicks shut, blocking out Namie's snappy complaint.
Izaya rubs his face with his hands as he waits for the elevator. Russia Sushi is the best place for him to get deplorably wasted at. There he can gorge on tuna at the same time and Simon, at the very least, will let him sleep it off there or just carry him back home like he's transporting a sack of potatoes. Everyone wins, especially as long as Shizuo doesn't show up and a drunken Izaya can keep his loose lips shut.
The elevator arrives with a ding and Izaya's head rises from his hands at the noise. The doors slide open smoothly and he suddenly feels as if he's been electrocuted. His nerves are tingling all over, small jolts running through his veins like a wire. There's a blond man standing in the elevator, looking into Izaya's eyes through a pair of pink shades. His smile is widening by the second and the brunet's body is trembling with aftershocks as he gazes back like a deer in headlights.
Izaya's heart is beating as quick as a rabbit's and he decides to do something extraordinarily stupid; he turns around and tries to run away.