(A/N) I literally feel awful this was such a pain in the fucking ass. I am so sorry that some of you saw that first update. I'm trying this again in the hopes of fixing the fuck ups.
Izaya drags the file across his forefinger and middle nail, pushing out his lip in a small pout as his skin caught. Shiki clears his throat from the leather recliner across Izaya's desk.
"Well? Can you find him?"
Izaya pulls the pad of his thumb across the freshly filed nails. His lips turn into a practiced smile, sweet and ensuring, the way he wants it. He delicately places the file back in his desk drawer and places both of his elbows on the glass surface underneath him. Izaya laces his fingers together under his chin and practically purrs as he speaks.
"Of course I can. How hard can it really be to find the identity of a superhero. Ursus should have known he couldn't hide forever."
Izaya smiles as the name rolls off his tongue. If Celty was a marvel in Ikebukuro, Tokyo's own superhero was miracle.
Ursus Arctos. Grizzly Bear.
The man with super strength that could turn into a bear at his will; enhanced speed, incredible combat sense, and mechanical constructs skills beyond that of any normal human.
And Izaya detests him with every fiber of his being.
How dare this man, if you could even call him that, so violently disrupt the perfect order of Izaya's humans.
What was it to Izaya if the yakuza wanted his real identity, his real name, his face, his loved ones.
It didn't concern him.
So it shouldn't have been surprising to anyone when Izaya deftly extends his hand to accept Shiki's offer. They shook hands lightly, Izaya biting back the cold shiver of disgust that ran up his spine from the very presence of the other man. Shiki stood and left, tugging the door closed tightly before Izaya let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Slumping down into his desk chair, he knits his fingers together and stares out the window.
Who was he, really?
Ursus.
Izaya thought about him so much it might be considered a mild obsession. His favorite quote comes to mind, "It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious.", said by Oscar Wilde.
So… how would one categorize Ursus?
Most humans would call him charming. He was technically a hero after all. Tedious wasn't exactly the word Izaya would use to refer to the...abomination.
He was awful; rough and violent. Guttural and feral.
Even when he saved people, those people rarely left without any injuries, whether it be a sprained wrist or a cracked rib. Ursus was hurting Izaya's humans, and therefore needed to be stopped. Izaya just hadn't had a direct excuse to pursue him until now.
Izaya sighs heavily and padds into the kitchen. He places his kettle on the stove and begins to heat water as he prepares a cup of tea.
It was different when humans were killing other humans. That was their own free will. However Ursus wasn't a human, and his continued assault of Izaya's toys was starting to grate on his nerves.
Ursus wasn't tedious.
Dealing with Ursus was tedious.
Izaya would never use the word charming to describe him either. Maybe annoying.
However, his hold over the humans of Ikebukuro, while incredibly irritating, was also fascinating. Ursus kept Ikebukuro in line.
In the beginning, when he was just a man/bear decked in metal plating, there was inconceivable fear in his existence. Fear from civilians, fear from the gang leaders and the lawbreakers, even fear from law enforcement.
Vigilante justice is illegal after all.
That's why Izaya never got into it.
He was in enough illegal activity as it was. There was no use in getting his hands dirty with crime watch when he was normally the one responsible for it.
The kettle whistles. He pours his tea and returns to his desk.
How should he go about doing this?
In order to find the true identity of Ursus, Izaya would have to emerge as his own hero. There was no point in trying to stalk Ursus without his powers, anyway. But before that, he needed to look the part. He turns toward his laptop and begins to type.
G.
Nothing but the weird avatar OC's.
S.
The Shade. DC Comics.
Izaya smiles to himself.
A suit and tie, huh?
No, no. That was too predictable.
His fingers tap across the keyboard again.
A cape?
No.
A cloak?
Izaya chuckles, thinking about his costume.
He takes a sip from his tea.
Maybe gloves?
Yes.
Black gloves.
When he uses his powers, it starts with the cold. It descends upon Izaya from the darkest, dirtiest corners of life itself and cascades across his form, into his mind, his body-
His soul.
Then the darkness and shadow.
It's still so calming to him.
Ever since Izaya was little, he had been able to control shadows. He only did it in front of his parents once, but the result wasn't pretty. If he remembers correctly, that was when they really began disappearing from his life. The kids at school used to bully him too; Calling him a monster. Izaya understood really. He was different and scary and unknown. It's only human nature to fear the unknown and the more powerful, so when Izaya went to middle school, he built a case study for himself. He watched human reaction and interaction. Only a handful of students knew about his powers, and by the time high school rolled around the rumors had been lost in translation. And even if they hadn't, that's all they were... rumors. Shizuo Heiwajima had already made a name for himself as the host for school attention, so anything Izaya had done in the first grade was past tense, and it didn't matter.
Since he was an adult now, especially with his profession, he was free to use his powers as he pleased. His seemingly supernatural beauty came in handy when getting information. Turns out humans are more willing to give out their personal information to someone they see as beautiful and gentle. It's amusing to Izaya, really, because of his beauty and rather androgynous body shape, the humans he deals with guess that Izaya isn't much of a physical threat. They belittle him, to tell the truth; which brings Izaya back to his outfit. He wouldn't show any of his face.
But back to his gloves.
He's grinning when the whispers start. The beckoning... the begging; Begging for help. They're always begging for help. Help that Izaya can't deliver, and never tried to. He feels the shadow connect with his skin; shrouding him in the cold embrace. It flows like smoke, wrapping itself into the skin around his hands and dissipating into black gloves.
Izaya flips his hands over and inspects his work.
He stands and glances over his shoulder at his back. Now about that cloak. At first, the design resembles something of a floor length pea-coat. Izaya flattens the top and fluffs the bottom. The shadows contort at his will and hug his body snuggly.
The whispers are more like distant shouting.
He strips the buttons and front flaps, leaving the jacket feeling more and more like a long robe.
Hood or no hood?
Izaya walks toward the bathroom; his coat billowing behind him dramatically.
The whispers follow.
He keeps the light off, not wanting to disrupt the darkness surrounding him. Izaya coils his fingers in the shadows around the neck line and pulls it up over his head.
Yes. Definitely a hood.
Izaya's mind drifts to Ursus' suit. He had metal plating across his shoulders and down both arms, much like a suit of armor. A large belt with his various hand held tools wrapped tightly around his waist. He was practically painted in white and copper; a very literal white knight. White cloth covered half his face, and was sewn into the big copper goggles covering his eyes. His crest was emblazoned on all of his armor; the silhouette of a bear's head with the Ursa Major constellation underneath it.
Izaya then drifts to his sidekick, Helectric. She was his own little Robin, only coming around when she was 'needed.' Her only real purpose is to jump the mechanics in Ursus' suit if he should run out of power. She was dressed similarly to a sun bear, pulling her powers of electric contortion from the crest of a bear paw on her chest.
Both were big, bulky, and slow.
The opposite of what Izaya wanted to be.
He chooses to cover his skin entirely with the darkness; sleek and form fitting. Something akin to a morph suit.
Oh, maybe not on the sleeves.
He strips the shadows up to the shoulder and allows the jacket sleeves to slip over the gloves. Pale flesh peeks out behind the black, snow white under the dark covering.
It still looks a little too clean.
Pulling harshly at the hems of the cloak, Izaya forces the sleeves and tail to appear almost burned, much like ash.
Izaya pulls his power into his core and watches as the smoke seeps out of his gloves.
Now for his eyes.
He needs eye holes right?
Well, no not really. But it would look nice. Aesthetic, he promises himself, grinning beneath the shadow.
Two elegantly thin sections of void strip away to reflect glowing red underneath his hood.
He spins around, much like a child, and giggles incredulously.
It's perfect.
Haunting red eyes, black suit, dark gloves.
Mystery and magic. All wrapped up in a neat, cold little package.
Izaya was cold to the touch, like ice.
It was quite fitting.
He smiles morbidly at the silence that greets him after willing away the shadows. Izaya stalks back over to his desk and sips his tea, nose wrinkling in disgust. The tea had gone cold. Deciding that he's had enough frozen things, he returns to the kitchen to pour out the rest of it.
Grabbing a red apple, Izaya leans back against the kitchen counter and takes a bite.
While he's at it, he might as well find out who Helectric is. Once Ursus is gone, she's gonna have to stand up as the new hero. Izaya smiles bitterly. The blonde curls are a little overdone aren't they? She needs to update her style.
He takes another bite.
Maybe she should dye her hair the same color as her blue suit. That would fit better. Once Izaya finds out who she really is, he'll drop the idea to her. A grin splits his face again.
He rolls his tongue over the porcelain fangs in his mouth, digging at a piece of apple skin wedged between his teeth. Maybe that was the closest thing to Ursus, Izaya thought, as he pulled the sliver free and swallows it.
He was a thorn in Izaya's side.. Something in his teeth... Something that needs to be removed.
Izaya runs a tongue over his teeth again and bites down sharply. Blood flows into his mouth, metallic and sharp. It's heavy, and it keeps him grounded as the pain throbs through him.
He swallows some of the blood, and takes another bite of the apple.
The acidity seeps into cut with a sting and he laughs again, nearly choking as he does so.
He sucks on his tongue for a bit and tosses out the rest of the apple, walking towards his desk. He sits down again and looks up Ursus again.
A man that can turn into a bear, huh?
R
Nothing but Ursus and hoax articles.
He sighs. Maybe there's something with the girl.
S
Finally, something interesting.
There's an article from a small publishing corporation about a girl who blew up a fuze box. Witnesses say it was with her bare hands. This could be som- wait...
This article is from '92.
The 'young girl' was actually 17.
A frown tugs at Izaya's lips.
She didn't look that old, he thought. Maybe it was her mother...? Or maybe it was her and she was actually much older than Izaya thought she was. He'd never really been up close to her. The idea of Helectric being a forty year old woman running around with Ursus was almost laughable.
Izaya comes back to the desktop computer to his left and goes to the Dollars' website. He signs into the chat forum as Kanra.
Kanra:
Hello /∩|･ิω･ิ▰|∩
Setton logged in.
Setton:
Hey Kanra.
Ah, Celty. It was odd to him, Izaya thought. There were so many similarities in their powers. However, even when she wanted to, Celty's shadows could never kill anyone.
Izaya's could.
He had done it before.
And he had no doubts in his mind that he would do it again.
Kanra:
Nothin much! Wat about u?
Tarō Tanaka logged in.
Tarō Tanaka:
Hi everyone.
Mikado... The leader of the Dollars. Izaya's dark smile stretches across his face. Mikado was one of Izaya's favorites. He was just surprising enough to Izaya to be deemed interesting, but not so much so that he was tedious.
Like that protozoan.
That violent, angry protozoan.
That...
Monster.
An audible hiss slips past Izaya's lips. He was a monster. Shizuo Heiwajima was a monster, and Izaya hated him entirely. There was no place for monsters among his toys.
Heiwajima wouldn't even be that bad if he didn't abuse that strength of his. He used it at his own damn will and it did nothing but leave a bitter taste in Izaya's mouth. There's nothing he hated more than when the game was so unfair there was no chance of success.
So Izaya refrained from using his powers in the event of a physical altercation.
It was the only thing that kept him from becoming a monster too.
Kanra:
How are you?
Tarō Tanaka:
I'm alright. What about you Setton?
Setton:
Actually, I've heard some strange things.
Kanra:
(ﾒ・ん・)？
Setton:
Some people are saying that the dollars are coming after Ursus.
Izaya's smile tugs down. How had he not heard about this? Furthermore, why?
Tarō Tanaka:
What?
Kanra:
Oh no!
Kanra:
Y would we do smth like that?
Kanra:
Thats so MEAN!
Setton:
I'm not exactly sure where this rumor started, but I do know that it's wrong.
Setton:
It is wrong right, Tarō?
Izaya peers closer to his screen.
Tarō Tanaka:
Of course it is. Sorry guys I gotta make a phone call.
Kanra:
Aw wat? Dont leave kanra-chan and setton-san like that!
Tarō Tanaka:
Sorry!
Setton:
Yeah I should probably go too.
Kanra:
ლ(∘◕‵ƹ′◕ლ)
Tarō Tanaka has signed out.
Setton has signed out.
Izaya pounds his fist into the table in anger. His shadows surround him like a cloud to cool his nerves.
Kanra has signed out.
Izaya returns to his laptop sharply and opens the Dollar's website. He sniffs around the various threads and forums, but he found nothing. Opening a private message on his desktop, Izaya continues to search for anything about the Dollars attacking Ursus.
Kanra joined this private chat.
Setton joined this private chat.
Kanra:
Where did Setton hear this rumor, hm?
Setton:
I think I saw a thread about it. Are you a fan of him?
Just at the thought, the bitter taste of bile rises at the back of his throat. As if Izaya would allow himself to be whisked away by the image of that beast.
Kanra:
Yes! yes!
He swallows the acidity.
Kanra:
Kanra-chan loves, loves, loves her boo bear.
A dry laugh slips past his lips.
Setton:
The thread I saw was pretty small. I think it got deleted. I could be wrong? Maybe it was about the yellow scarves… it seems right up their alley.
Izaya purses his lips in thought. He'll have to send for Maosomi to explain this.
Kanra:
╰(✧∇✧╰)/ Yay! Kanra-chan is so happy! Her boo bear can handle a couple huffy stuffy yellow scarves!
Setton:
I'm sure he'll be fine. Bye Kanra.
Kanra:
Au revoir mon capitane! Kanra-chan awaits our next convo!
Setton has signed out.
Kanra has signed out.
There is no one in this chat.
Izaya sits back from his computer, his nerves calmed a bit from the previous... what even was that?
Fear?
Dread?
Izaya purses his lips again. He chalks it up to not wanting to be in the middle of a fight he didn't create. There's a lot of stress accompanied with being a dollar during a time of conflict, and it serves no greater purpose than to complicate Izaya's life.
Especially if that conflict involved a superhero.
The word seems so juvenile to Izaya. He runs his tongue over his teeth again, just to sharpen the sting from the healing bite. By now, Namie had been long gone and the light of the city was illuminating the darkness Izaya thrived in.
He moves upstairs and slips into his bedroom, and the whispers start as soon as the door slips closed behind him. Izaya pads into the bathroom and flicks on the light. There's a sharp hiss behind him.
He smiles faintly at the porcelain floors, counters, and toilets. Smooth black cabinets and walls, accompanied by silver finishes complete the look of Izaya's monochromatic aesthetic. Izaya flicks on his shower to something uncharacteristically warm. It's hot actually. He wants to burn.
Izaya chews on his tongue while he waits for the shower to heat up.
He pulls open the glass door and steps into the tile shower. Izaya sighs contently as the water kisses his skin bright red against the pale flesh.
God, it burns.
Izaya loves his shower. The rain head in the center, an infinity drain, the black stained glass doors and reflective tile... everything was perfect. The noise of the water falling drowns out all other sounds.
He stands a little taller, roughly cracking his neck as his body absorbs the feverish warmth. It was ridiculously intense.
Izaya grabs the bottle of shampoo.
Worst case scenario, Izaya would get seriously hurt and have to go to Shinra. Maybe it was better if Shinra knew ahead of time so that if Izaya did get seriously hurt, Shinra wouldn't freak out when he willed his shadows away.
He rinses the soap from his hair and grabs his conditioner.
He'll cross that bridge when he gets to it, he concludes, and turns up the water a bit. While Izaya's knowledge is limited to the basics about superheroes, he figures he'll just pull a SpiderMan and suit up and drift around the city until he finds some crime to hault. With all of the human trafficking, it shouldn't be too hard.
His fingers dance around his various scented body soaps. He should use something he doesn't normally. Shizu-chan claims to be able to track his scent, so Izaya needs something powerful. Heaven forbid he runs into that beast tonight. He plucks a dark bottle from the shelf, and brings it to his nose. The image of rain freshly falling on a silent forest. Combined with the burnt ash smell from his powers, Izaya should be covered.
He scrubs the soap into his raw skin harshly to add to the irritation, grinning. Izaya rinses the conditioner from his hair and skin and grabs his exfoliator. He ponders for a bit if Shizu-chan even knows what exfoliator is before laughing audibly at his stupidity.
After washing his face, Izaya gingerly steps out of the shower into the cold and wraps a fluffy white towel around his waist. He grabs another one, this one gray, and haphazardly tosses it over his head and shoulders.
What should he wear? Should he even dress at all? He supposes he technically doesn't need to, since everything will be covered with shadows. Wait... aren't Celty's clothes made of shadows, and if so… does that mean that she's just naked all the time?
Izaya nearly buckles over in laughter at the thought. He remembers asking Celty about whether or not a spotlight would shine bright enough to penetrate her shadows. She asked if he wanted to find out, and Izaya arrogantly sneered about Shinra's sexual and romantic preferences.
He resolves that, yes, he will wear clothes in the event of any... unforeseen circumstances, and pulls out a pair of black basketball shorts from his dark wood dresser. Izaya slides those on over his boxers and rushedly towel dries his hair before discarding both towels onto his bed. He slips on a short-sleeved pull over hoodie. It's a little lazy for his taste, but it will have to do. A smile slips its way into his face as he laces up his pair of combat boots. Admittedly, he looks a little ridiculous, but his outfit was efficient. At least that's what he tells himself as he grabs his towels as he stands up. Izaya deposits them in a tucked away laundry basket and skips back down stairs.
It's a quarter till ten by the time Izaya is ready. He thinks that before he takes on the big bear, he might want to make a name for himself. He can't have Ursus thinking that he's nothing more than a frivolous kid in a suit. Izaya turns all the lights off and slips out of the dark apartment. He locks the door, pulls his hood up high over his head, and turns on his heels to the stairs. Izaya would be lying if he said he wasn't a little nervous. He'd never used his powers in combat aside from throwing that kid that broke his favorite car in the first grade.
Izaya throws open the door to the roof and stands in the middle. He's illuminated by the lights below him and the glow of the moon above him. Turning his head to follow the whispers, Izaya listens to his shadows. While normally all they did was scream for help, hidden within the begging was answers; answers to questions Izaya couldn't find. It was part of what made him such a good informant. The darkness is everywhere, and Izaya had a pair of eyes in every corner.
The shadows tell him that he is alone, no one's watching him, so he pulls in his strength to his center and allows the shadows to cover himself. He stands there for a minute in all his glory and allows his shadows to pool underneath him like a dark fog before dissipating into the air.
Izaya ponders for a minute on the fact that he probably looks more like a villain than any hero, but it is what it is. Pulling his feet off the ground, Izaya's shadows catch his weight and carry him to the other side of the roof. He snickers lightly at his own glibness; gliding around on the air like a penguin on ice. He floats down to the building to his left, keeping his eyes and ears peeled for any signs of crime. He pushes himself through the air to the tallest building on the block. Tucking his legs underneath him, Izaya peers over the edge of the skyscraper. He closes his eyes and focuses on the dark alleys where people are taken, drugs are sold and murders are committed. There's nothing for a while; only squeaking rats and a few petty pot deals.
But then he sees it. A boy, maybe eight, being forced onto a wall by another boy, this one much older. Izaya would place him in his late teens. He keeps the scene in his head as he slips off the roof, willing the shadows to let him fall. He hears someone beneath him gasp at the sight of someone falling, and pulls in the darkness to shoot him off in the direction of the alley. He grins as he hears the gasps and yelling of the people around him as he shoots past. Izaya takes a hard left and slips through the dark. He feels hands on him, like he normally does when he travels in the shadows. They grab and tug roughly on him. They're screaming when Izaya tugs his way out into the corner of an alley way.
"Hold still-"
"I want my mommy!"
"Shut the fuck up, brat!"
Izaya flinches when the older boy drives his fist into the stomach of the smaller. He slams his hand over the little boy's mouth and throws his forehead into the brick walls.
"If you say a fucking word I'll kill you."
Izaya goes to take a step forward, but feels three hands slam onto his forearm.
...Think...
Right. How should he go about this. He can't exactly beat the guy up and go on his way, can he?
No...
You can't kill a weed by pulling off the leaves.
Izaya uses his shadows to cup two hands over the eyes and ears of the little boy, and pulls him through the wall behind Izaya.
Obviously, both boys are startled, and Izaya has to suppress a laugh.
"What the fuck are you? Get out of here you piece of shit."
Izaya scoffs at the brute- even Shizu-chan wasn't this rude! Izaya protectively taps the head of the small boy and turns him to face the wall. As the child turns, he stares fearfully at Izaya's glowing eyes.
Izaya thinks about his next course of action. On one hand, he can rough this guy up a little and deposit him to the authorities, but on the other...
"If you saw weeds in your garden, you'd pluck them, wouldn't even bat an eyelash. So if there's a human that is hurting the other humans..."
Izaya rears his shadows into a large black spike and slams it through the chest of the assailant. The air reeks of iron, and he can feel the blood through his shadows. Izaya stops for a minute and thinks, perhaps a little too late, that maybe he took this a bit far. However, when this man dies, the boy behind him will never have to worry again. Neither will any other child that will ever come across him... Or any child he's already abused. Any empathy Izaya held drained instantly. The spike, still rammed in his chest, split open into many more; one through his liver, two in his heart, three in his stomach and intestines, two in the back, and finally, one, the largest, out through the top of his head.
There was blood everywhere.
Izaya was too focused on the screaming of his shadows to notice the gurgle and a sob die out from the older kid. He spun the main spike up and slammed the dead carcass against the near stone wall. More blood splattered against it on impact. Izaya glides towards the body. Every hole Izaya had made was surrounded in an ashen ring of black.
Interesting Izaya thinks as he forces the darkness back to its rightful place.
The blood that was on his spike collides with the ground with a loud splat. Izaya turns around and faces the little boy again, who had been strangely silent during the entire ordeal. His chin is practically hanging at his chest when Izaya sees him.
"That... was... fricking awesome! You were all like wooosh and he was all like 'what are you' and you just-"
He flails his arms to emphasize Izaya's brutal stabbing.
"You were amazing!"
Izaya's heart swells a little. It was cute, without a doubt, his enthusiasm for Izaya reminded him of that innocent child-like wonder. Izaya had just slaughtered a man in front of him, he had almost been raped; yet here he was, looking at Izaya as though he was a god.
He extended his hand to the little boy, which he eagerly took, and Izaya hauled him onto his shoulders. The boy cheered loudly as he was pulled up.
"Can you take me home?" he asks.
Izaya nods and smiles at the exclamation of joy he receives. The boy wraps his short arms around Izaya's neck, and barks out directions. At first, Izaya debates using his powers to phase to the boy's address, but then decides that that would take away the effect of being saved. And on top of that, the more people that see him the easier it would be for word to get back to Ursus.
He pushes himself to the top of the building the boy was shoved against and flits across the platform before gliding from rooftop to rooftop. The little boy directs him to turn left, so Izaya drifts off of the building. Keeping a firm grip on the child, he flies in between traffic, being egged on by the gleeful screams in his ear.
Izaya smiles confidently at the people hollering and taking pictures. He should be cover news by morning, if not in a few hours.
The boy on Izaya's back points out a small apartment building near the Shimo-Ochiai station. He was very close to the heart of Ikebukuro; much closer than he would have liked.
Izaya lands delicately on sidewalk in front of the building. He bends down as the boy releases. A small crowd has gathered around to watch the scene.
"Thank you so much!" The boy cheers. "You saved my life!"
Izaya pats his head and ushers him inside the building. A woman, presumably his mother, is interrogating the poor young man at the front desk.
The little boy calls out, there's hugging and as Izaya prepares to leave valiantly like the mysterious hero he's trying to be, but feels a sharp tug at his cloak. The boy's mother pulls Izaya into a crushing hug, and Izaya tries his best to not immediately push her away. He very awkwardly pats her back reassuringly and waits for her to let go. Once she does, he realizes she's crying and is doing his best to leave without making the experience of almost losing her son even more traumatic. She's still thanking him when she finally lets go and returns to her son. The crowd outside is starting to pour in through the front doors, and Izaya can feel the bristling of a panic attack coat his nerves. This room is too well lit for Izaya to just faze out.
There's too much light.
There's too much noise.
He needs to get out before he breaks down.
He needs to... shut off the light.
He pulls in the darkness nearby to himself. It's much harder than it normally is, most of the physical shadow dissipating in the corners. The people keep coming in. They're asking names, taking pictures, and the minute a hand reaches his hood, it's like a latch. Shadow fills the room like a wave. The power has long gone out, and Izaya's ears are assaulted with the violent blood curdling screams. He allows himself to be swallowed, hoping no one else is being caught in his darkness. He feels silence and slowly strips his bubble away.
Izaya's on a rooftop when he gets his bearings. He looks up and frowns slightly, unable to make out any stars. While a rooftop is familiar to him, it isn't exactly a good location qualifier. He tip toes to the edge of the building and glances over the edge. Oh! He's on the top of the apartment building. Izaya really needs to get that under control. He breathes a sigh of relief. Ironically enough, the last time he did that, he ended up in the caverns of Onigashima. That was awkward to explain to the tour guides. Izaya turns back to the center of the building.
Izaya had visited the caverns before. He remembers his favorite story from his childhood, Momotarō, the peach boy. He was born from a peach, and at a young age he packed Kibidango and headed off to the caverns to subjugate the demons living there. Along the way, he came across a dog, a monkey and a Japanese pheasant, and together they defeated the demons, took back the treasure the monsters had stolen, and returned peace to the world. Some of his nannies took him to that island when he was young. He remembers the brightly coloured, burlesque demon sculptures tucked into the dark corners of the caves. Looking back on it now, he knows his parents only sent him on this trip so he couldn't be with them when they were in Japan.
It was a strange moment for Izaya when he realized that even his own parents feared him.
He sighs and shakes the nostalgia away. Memories tend to help him deal with anxiety. Izaya's breathing levels out, and he peeks over the roof's ledge again. The crowd has dissipated, many of them posting or chatting about the most recent events.
He stands up, slowly, and embarks south again toward Shinjuku. He's very tired. Izaya is bouncing between the rooftops above the empty allyways. Now that he's thinking about it, Izaya has never used his powers like this before, at least never to this capacity. He never realized how draining it all is. He skips over the Kanda River, and just barely makes it before his body gives out. Izaya crashes into the concrete bank under the bridge, his shadows spilling out around him in a hazy circle of ash.
It looks like a rocket crashed, Izaya thinks weakly as he fights off the darkness spilling into his consciousness.
The whispers are back, feebly telling him to rest. They do this when he overworks himself. Izaya pushes himself into a sitting position and scoots his back against the wall. The shadows dance around him in a swirling pattern as he wills away his suit. It's taking too much energy to maintain. A smirk tugs his lips, thinking about how humorous this would be if he had decided he didn't need any clothes. A sharp wind bounces off the waves, and Izaya delicately wraps his arms around his bare legs.
What was he even doing out here?
From early on in his childhood he was so harshly reminded that his powers were evil and they turned him into a mon-...
His smile falters.
He's only a few minutes from the heart of Ikebukoro. As much as he loves playing with his Shizu-chan, Izaya was in no position to take him on. A couple of teenage girls cross over the bridge, and Izaya tips his ear toward the sky.
"Oh my god! He was so cute!"
"Nori, you didn't even see him! You just saw the same thread on the doll-"
"Shhh! Akane, you can't just announce that we're a part of the dollars!"
Izaya rolls his eyes at the girl, presumably Nori's, attempt at whispering.
"But anyway," Nori yells again, "Those pictures don't lie. He's so cute!"
Akane audibly scoffs. "They weren't even good pictures. It just looks like a vaguely… humanoid shape."
Both girls stop and lean over the bridge, and Izaya silently skirts deeper underneath it.
"But," Nori sings, "He was saving a little boy."
"No one even knows if it's a boy, Nori. You're just trusting what the website said about It-... It-... however you pronounce his name."
Nori stomps, "It-zal! His name is Itzal! It means shadow or something in Hebrew. Come on- It isn't that hard to pronounce."
"Don't act like you just know Hebrew. You Googled it didn't you?"
"Akane, why do have to rain on my parade?"
"Your hovercraft is full of eels."
"That's so rude, Akane!" Nori cries.
Akane sneers, "It's true though."
"Well whatever," she objects. "Itzal is awesome and hot af. Do you think he knows Ursus?"
"I don't know. Maybe." Akane sighs though her nose. "Do you think either of them know the headless rider?"
"Oh please, Akane, he's old news."
"How do you know they're a boy?"
"How do you know he's not?"
"Nori, you can't just assume someone's gender because of physical appearance."
"Well what do you want me to do, judge his face? Oh wait?!"
Izaya suppresses a laugh at Celty's expense; It was amazing how ignorant humans were.
"Shove it, Nori."
Nori laughs, "Come on! Let's go see if he's still out there!"
Izaya hears the quick struggling from her companion before their footsteps fade south. He slips Nakura's phone out of the front pocket of his hoodie and goes to the dollar's website. All of the threads on the main board are about the same thing.
Itzal: The shadow man.
Izaya scoffs, 'the shadow man'... really?
He pushes himself to his feet, feeling physically better, but mentally jipped. He pulls on his suit before climbing over the bridge railing. Izaya glances around for a minute and sighs in contentment at the emptiness. It was rare to find an urban area so quiet.
He's very tired.
Izaya takes off again, following the same route going southwest. He's passing over a few unnamed streets and leaping across rooftops before coming to a halt at the edge of Toyama Park. He slips to the ground and strolls down the path. As much as Izaya loves the urban centers of Tokyo, it's moments like this, when the only sound he can hear is his breathing and his footsteps, that he feels most at peace. He inhales deeply and frowns in distaste, understanding what Shingen means when he rambles about pollution in Tokyo's air.
He could never see himself living in the country. Izaya decided from a young age that the rural lifestyle just wasn't for him. He just wasn't built for the intensive labor it took to maintain an existence in what, to Izaya, was the damn frontier. He needed his modern comforts like internet and heated floors.
He slips past the Shinjuku Sports Center. Why they decided to place it in the middle of the park escapes Izaya, but he uses it to shoot off the grounds from the roof. He flies west for a bit, attempting to get a little more publicity before slipping home. Izaya suppresses a yawn and lands between the Yamanote and Seibu Shinjuku Line, sauntering between the railways.
Izaya is a little surprised to tell the truth. Shinjuku was anything but safe, and Ikebukuro was even worse. He feels a little cheated, seeing as any comic and superhero movie uses the trope of beautiful girl screaming for help from a nasty assailant. All Izaya got was a small child who was almost raped and a near panic attack as a result. Forget their experience, where's Izaya's cliche? He frowns again realizing that maybe it's a good thing he was swindled from the involvement. His muscles ache, his ears hurt, and he really just wants to go to bed.
His train of thought is interrupted as he notices a Toyota Aqua hurtling toward him through the air. Before he can actually process the flying car, it slams into him, and he grinds against the pavement of the Okubo Elementary School playground. He manages to roll out of the way before a lamp post penetrates the concrete. At first, Izaya thinks that maybe Shizuo smelled through his disguise, and has a momentary meltdown, but then he spots the bear crest and copper armor shining brightly under the light of the moon.
Izaya uses his shadows to stand upright, surrounding himself in darkness and frowns. This isn't happening according to schedule. Ursus was striding over the train tracks, his goggles blocking his eyes, but the scowl in his lip evident as he growls.
"I don't know who you are," His voice sounds forced to a lower tone, and Izaya figures it's all part of keeping that secret identity under lock and key, "but you look like bad news, and I've already got enough of that to deal with."
He's much ruder than Izaya had anticipated, and he doesn't stop the grimace from etching into his features. Ursus can't see his face anyway.
Izaya remains silent as Ursus advances, tearing the lamp post out of the ground with a feral growl. He swings, the post dissipates some of Izaya's shadows and gets dangerously close to his nose. Izaya's having flashbacks to Shizu-chan. He does a handful of consecutive backflips and wills his shadows to just shut up cause he is not going to run. Izaya shakes his head violently and Ursus lunges, mechanical claws already ripping out of his gauntlets. He slashes with each hand, each swipe getting closer and closer to slicing Izaya into pieces.
He's much faster than he looks.
With each step he can feel himself approaching his limit. If he wasn't already about to collapse, he was definitely ready to now.
Worry starts to work its way into his mind, and in a final feat of solid power, Izaya slips through the darkness cast over the playground and teleports to standing on top of the swing set railing. Izaya crouches down, and part of him hopes that Ursus doesn't find him.
This was happening too fast. Izaya figured he had at least a couple of days before this inevitable event took place. His balance is starting to waiver, and just as his footing starts to slip, The entire playground set slams into the swings. The swingset is no longer underneath him, and he drops, eating the pavement for the second time that evening. He suppresses a chuckle because, while the wind did just get knocked out of him, he bit his tongue when his jaw hit the ground. The iron from the blood in his mouth fills his nose and a frown tugs his lips.
Izaya decides he should just do what he can to fight back because, after all, this is getting a little ridiculous. Izaya looks up and slides out of the way as the same damn lamp post is launched for his head again.
Izaya really needs a weapon; he misses his knives.
Izaya slips through the shadows and pops up directly behind Ursus. He wills the darkness to take the form of a knife and wraps his fingers around the cold handle. He slashes across Ursus' back. The scent of blood fills his nose. Ursus turns around and throws a punch as predicted, Izaya easily dodges and Izaya slams his shadows into his chest. Seeing as Ursus is no good dead to him, Izaya rounds off the point of his shadow pike. The blunt force pushes him back a couple of meters, and Izaya can see that Ursus is getting to be really, really pissed off.
Izaya can't help but smirk.
Ursus takes hold of the pike, which has a) never happened before, and b) actually hurts like a lot, and Izaya has to fight the strangled gasp that slips out as gravity seems a lot heavier than before. It felt like fire enveloped him as thickly as the cold does. He throws it off of his chest and the shadows vanish with it. Izaya slips backwards and crouches to the ground, not trusting his legs to support his weight any longer.
"Alright I've had enough," Ursus growls.
Izaya suppresses a wince.
"Who are you? What are you?!" Ursus is yelling now.
Izaya coughs a little, the blood from his tongue filling up his mouth. He pitches his voice a little and imitates an American accent in his Japanese.
"Does it matter?"
Ursus shoots him a quizzical look.
He fixes his face and glares. "Yes it does. Once you showed up, there was a dead body in an alleyway."
"You can't pin that on me," Izaya smirks.
Ursus is fuming, "Yes! I can! There's no one else that could cover that innocent man's body in black shit. Not counting that half the city took pictures of you around the scene. And on top of that, you blew out the power for a whole city block with your little stunt!"
Izaya stands again, still feeling woozy. "Well if you must know, that innocent man would have raped a little boy by now if I hadn't stepped in."
Ursus pauses.
"I'm on your side," Izaya states flatly in an uncharacteristically serious tone.
"No one on my side ends another human life."
Izaya scoffs, "Oh please. Do you know how many rapists actually see trial? If I released him to the police, he would have been back on the street by morning. Don't you think this city has enough sexual predators? He got what he deserved."
Izaya is actually starting to get irritated by this oaf. How dare he try to make Izaya feel guilty for ending that filth's life.
"Is that your justification? You can't just end a life without consequences."
"Then I take the burden of my actions in exchange for that little boy's piece of mind."
Ursus is staring him down again, trying to decide whether Izaya is lying or not.
"It's still murder."
"Oh, come on," Izaya jeers, "Think of it like this. If you found a weed, you know, a parasite hiding amongst the others, hurting and abusing the other plants in your garden, you'd remove it. So that's what I did. I removed the weed."
Ursus seemed calmer, "It's still..."
Izaya sighs, he's weak and needs to get home. He shortens the space between them, now within armspan. "I'll let you think about it. I feel like we're going to be seeing a lot of each other."
Izaya flew off back toward Shinjuku, glancing behind him to make sure that Ursus was still standing amidst the destroyed playground equipment with a blank face, lost in thought.
He takes off again, using his power to shoot off into the night. With the darkness slipping around him, Izaya slips out of the city atmosphere and into the silence of his home. He wills his shadows away and moves into the bathroom, wiggling his toes against the heated porcelain beneath him with a sigh. Izaya tugs his sweater off and hisses at the tug on his muscles, there's a nasty welt across his torso, and from the feel of it, he's got at least a couple broken ribs. There's a couple scratches on his face, the deepest across his cheek. Nothing too severe, but the road rash on his hands and face does sting a little.
Izaya grabs his first aid kit and slowly removes the bandages. He applies some disinfectant, wincing at the sting, and wraps his hands tightly. He squeezes some neosporin on a cloth pad and presses it against his cheek, taping it in place, and deciding that he'll just go see Shinra in the morning about his ribs.
Izaya has never used his powers that much before, and he's extremely worn out. Maybe he'll take tomorrow off. His exhaustion is seeping through his muscles and into his bones. He thanks whatever god he doesn't believe in that the whispers have stopped completely.
Despite what his body is telling him, Izaya goes downstairs. He knows that if he doesn't at least rehydrate, he'll feel sick and hurt in the morning. He slams a bottle of water and trudges his way back up the god forsaken stairs. He's too tired to live in a two story home. Izaya haphazardly tosses the bottle in the direction of his night stand, and can't be bothered to care when it takes out his lamp. He'll just buy another one tomorrow. He kicks off his boots, taking only one of his socks off and falls on his bed. He dwells for a minute on how much of a mess he is, bandaged, stiff, and sore with broken glass scattered across the dark wood floors. Not to mention the one sock on his left foot. But he doesn't care. He's tired and cold, but it's quiet and he's covered in the silk of his blankets.
So he closes his eyes and sleeps. He sleeps until tomorrow; where he has to own up to the fact that he just killed another human, has to lie to his only real friend, and has to pretend that he didn't just break his own personal ethical code and do the one thing he promised he wouldn't do.