Author's note:
Uuuuuuugh, it already 1:00 in the morning. I'm crazy!
So, this is just a quick one-shot story. I had a lot of fun writing it, though, it did make me a little depressed. I really hope you all enjoy it!
Rated: T for swering, violence and blood.
Characters: Izaya Orihara, Shizuo Heiwajima.
From: Durarara! (I don't own it though I really wish I did.)
Please review.
-Bloody Pavement-
Izaya never got hit. Never. It didn't matter what Shizuo hurled at him he never felt the pain of those objects.
Then what made this time different?
It had all started the same, Shizuo had been smoking calmly in front of an old run down apartment building where Tom-san was conducting his business. When, after a particularly long drag of the cigarette he was holding, his golden eyes spotted something, or more, someone in the distance. He felt the rage that had been simmering in his chest for years bubble up and then emerge as a inhuman scream.
"IIIIZZAAAAYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
He dropped the still glowing cigarette to the ground, throwing himself into an all out run after that black haired nuisance. That bastard had some nerve showing his face here. He grabbed a stop sign as he ran pass an intersection, hurling the damn thing at the small black clad figure.
The raven haired boy turned slightly only to see the sign hurtling toward him. He barley had time to jump out of the way as the mix of metal and red paint crashed into the pavement.
"Oh, shizu-chan?" the informant said. "I didn't know you were there." But his words almost sounded sad, like his heart really wasn't in it.
"Your going to die today flea!" The blonde man yelled.
"I'd really rather not if you don't mind." The other said. His mouth twitching into a halfhearted smile. And with that he ran.
But he didn't get far.
Maybe the red eyed boy was tired or sick. Maybe it was just an accident or he didn't see it coming. But it didn't matter, what mattered is that the next thing Shizuo threw, hit it's target.
Izaya?
Shizuo had wrenched another sign from the concrete where it nested, and hurled it at the black clad figure.
There's so much blood.
The sign had traveled trough the air at an extremely fast speed. Burying itself deep into the black haired boys chest.
It wasn't supposed to happen like this.
Izaya stumbled, collapsing to the ground. The sign poll was stuck right through the young informant. It was like a bad dream. Unexpected. Unreal.
At first Shizuo was sure he had mistaken. He had thrown things at the red eyed informant many times before and they had never hit their mark, and this time would be no different. But the more he looked, and the more he stared at the gory scene before him the more real it became. It was like being hit with ice water while in a hot shower.
He stopped running. He couldn't move.
Had he won?
Was this what he wanted?
He walked slowly toward the raven haired boy. Izaya hadn't moved. Was he gone? Actually gone?
He finally got beside him. Blood was everywhere spreading out in an oval around the pale figure. His body was contorted at a weird angle. His head rested face down on the hard pavement. His delicate white hands lay open in the pool of brilliant red.
Shizuo didn't know what to do. He just stood there shock clear in his handsome features. What if he really was dead? What would that mean? Shizuo's life was circled around killing this man, but he had never thought about what he would do if he ever accomplished this violent goal.
Fuck, why was he thinking this? He might not be dead after all. It could just be another one of his games.
Shizuo, looked down at the limp figure. But what if it wasn't a game? He wasn't sure he wanted to see whatever lay in that pool of blood.
Just check him Shizuo. He told himself.
The knelt down slowly his eyes running along the smaller mans body. He didn't look good. He reached out pushing the man onto his back, careful not to shove the sign deeper into the pale mans body. But when he did this, he immediately wished he hadn't. He would never forget that face. The look of shock and horror. Of pain and...nothingness. The face of a dead man.
His eyes were still wide open. Two red orbs as red as the liquid seeping from his chest, but there was nothing in them. Empty.
Dead.
Shizuo could feel his breath hitch in his throat, his heartbeat rise.
"No! I didn't...I didn't want..." his voice caught in his throat. "Izaya...why didn't you duck away like you do every other time you bastard?" In the last couple words his voice turned angry. He brought his hand up to his face unwanted tears burning his eyes, making wet tracks down his face. Why was he crying? He hated this man. Hated.
"You bastard! You weren't...supposed to die yet!"
He shoved his fists into the concrete.
"Not yet..."
Not now.
Not ever.