This Too Is Love
Rated: T, for it is a tragedy.
Warnings and Disclaimers: Ryohgo Narita is the lovely human being how owns all rights to all the Durarara! characters, as well as those plots and any overlapping themes. Also, A warning for possible triggers because this is a tragedy! And if you do not know what I mean when I say tragedy, then you need to read some Shakespeare. And to those of you who were waiting for a Predator update, my sincerest apologies. As you can see, my mood has currently shifted.
Now grab yourself some Kleenex, or maybe a sweater sleeve, just in case, and then you may somewhat safely proceed.
It was a situation in which Orihara Izaya was not prepared to face. And worst of all, his current circumstances went against every belief within his highly organized mind. There had never been room to believe in it, nor had there been room to plan for it. It had never been a part of his game, and in the rare occasion that he had relied on it, he had always encouraged it or manipulated it in someway.
But this time, it had happened on its own accord.
And thus, the moment in which it occurred, his brain had strategically shut him out from the reality of it; the cruelty, for it simply wasn't something that he was ready for.
The executions within his mind had come to a stand still. Every thought was hazy and distant, like the ideas were merely water droplets that rippled into stillness atop a puddle. He found himself groaning, struggling to piece together the teasing information that would surely let him in on the secret event that had just occurred.
Because even though his body and brain were numb, he knew something was wrong.
Prying his eyes open, he wasn't surprised when his vision wavered. He had figured as much, judging by the pounding in his head. His equilibrium was shot, and if it wasn't for the incredibly vague and foggy objects, swaying along with a flashing red light that pierced his eyes through the night, he would have never noticed that his face was rocking to and fro. He let his head drop forward so he could close his eyes. He needed to clear his mind and vision, for the faint noises around him almost convinced him that he was under water. There was a conversation going on nearby, but it sounded like he was trapped within a glass aquarium, only fortunate enough to know that one or two of his favourite humans was nearby.
He struggled to take in a shaky breath, for his lungs were heavy within his chest. Moving his hands, which were rest by his belly atop a cold object, he half realized that something was pushing into his stomach. He licked his dried out bottom lip as pressure welled up at the base of his neck. He ignored the metallic taste that ran down his throat.
"Iz..."
He had more than enough enemies. Did one of them finally get to him? Drug him? That would explain the pounding in his head and the heavy numb feeling in his body. Why couldn't he remember what had happened? Perhaps it had been Shizu-chan, finally trapping him with a vending machine. The surface texture felt right. Cold and metal. Heavy. His back was also pressed against something equally cold and hard. It couldn't be the pavement, for he was sitting up. At least he knew which way he was facing.
"Izaya..."
His name filtered through the clouds within his ears, and he squeezed his eyes hard once. Twice. Raising his head, feeling his mind clear only slightly, he glanced up to his right with half lidded eyes. The fur from his jacket rubbed against his face, but he didn't really want to know why it was damp. His vision cleared considerably, and he was half aware that the water that had been blinding him was now running down his cheeks, raising his skin as it went. He wasn't concerned about anything, because he knew that voice. Everything would be alright.
Shinra's face came into view, and he couldn't stop the smile that broke onto his lips. "Shin..."
"Shhh..." the doctor suddenly moved forward and gently placed his left hand firmly on Izaya's shoulder. Izaya's smile cracked when Shinra's usually cheerful expression contorted into something much more terrifying. Eyebrows creased together and muscles incredibly strained, Shinra tried to smile as best as he could. His eyes were narrowing, not out of anger, but out of some other foreign emotion; a feeling Izaya had never seen the man truly express. Shinra gave a light squeeze to his shoulder. There was a second of hesitation before he spoke. "Is there... is there anyone... you want here?"
Izaya scrunched up his nose at the question. Who did he want to be there? More importantly, why would he want anyone to be there? For what reason? And that led to a sudden thought.
Where was he?
Letting the confusion show on his face because he was now realizing that he had no idea what was going on, he let his eyes wander away from Shinra's familiar features and to the scene displayed before him. He didn't prepare himself mentally, didn't even stop to consider that he might have to. Because he was Orihara Izaya, one out of the most feared and respected men in Tokyo.
His already shallow breath caught in his throat.
Fists clenching atop the hood of a small blood red truck, Izaya momentarily stopped breathing, for he knew it wasn't a case in which a peculiar person had parked their vehicle in a prohibited area. On the public sidewalk. Adjacent to a building. And if that had been the case, an ambulance wouldn't be parked across the street with a police officer, a doctor and an empty stretcher patiently waiting.
Turning his head ever so slightly to the left, he realized that unlike his assumption before, he was actually standing, and his back was pinned to a crumbling brick wall right beside a dark alley way. He was in Ikebukuro, this fact didn't come as a shock to him either, and he vaguely remembered being on the prowl out of sheer boredom.
Boredom. He had left the safety of his apartment out of boredom.
Looking away with a sudden twitch in his eyes, he glanced back to the dented hood before him; the crushed grill which was pressed right into his midsection. It looked like something straight out a movie – perhaps he had even watched one with his sisters.
Swallowing incredibly slowly, he pretended like he wasn't shaking as he hesitantly glanced back over to Shinra. "I..." Shinra's mouth twitched along with his eyebrows when his voice cracked, "I can't... feel my legs..."
The hand on his shoulder tightened as Shinra somehow managed to step closer. "It's..." Fixable? Going to be alright?
"I'm..." Not quite believing what was happening, he giggled, "I'm... broken, aren't... I? This truck? It's all that's keeping me here."
While Shinra struggled for words, a yellow helmet in the darkness caught Izaya's attention not four feet behind the doctor.
Celty was standing by the road with both of her hands pressed over where her heart should have beat. Her shoulders were shaking and the black puffs were coming out of her body in low and sad wisps. Resting silently against her was her shadowed bike, like it was attempting to console her in some way. She didn't approach, and Izaya tried to smile, tried to thank her for it. He didn't want to face her emotions. They might evoke repressed ones within himself.
"D-Do you need anyone to be here with you?" Shinra tried again, effectively catching the hazy informants attention. Izaya glanced back, just in time to see Shinra plucking his frames from his nose. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve frantically. "Is there someone I have to call?" He was speaking quickly like he was in a rush.
Izaya glanced back down. He felt the weight from his neck settle in his chest as he stared at his distorted reflection against the ridiculously shiny hood of the truck. Black hair was plastered to his face and his eyes were abnormally red and blood shot. He almost scowled at the prominent tear streaks, before he realized that he was practically facing his grim reaper; there to steal his soul. He swallowed again, before chuckling and averting his eyes. "This is kind of ironic, ne?" He glanced back up, not shamed by the fact that tears were once again freely spilling from the corners. He was shocked though, to see that Shinra's lids had turned red as well. "I never did believe in coincidence's. Or fate. It was always I who was pulling the strings. I merely used coincidences as an excuse to confuse people, and further manipulate them into my plans. Funny, no? I just wanted people to love me. And yet here I am, a victim of fate, the real deal!" And he leaned back, letting his already damaged head fall back against the bricks harshly. He giggled, though it lacked his usual hint of amusement. He stared up to the black sky. The moon was full, and glowing an ethereal white behind the thin layer of smog that blocked out the stars.
How unfortunate that he couldn't see them.
"Be careful." Shinra scolded, well trained eyes landing on the others midsection. He had never seen the situation before in real life, but he knew it was a medical possibility. The only thing holding the informant together was the very thing that would kill him as soon as it was removed. His voice cracked and he grabbed Izaya's hand and wrapped his fingers around it. "Just answer my question. There might not be enough time. We're looking at minutes now..." Because he had arrived just in time to see the scene unfold. Celty's premonition hadn't been early enough for them to change the course of fate. Upon arrival, Shinra had been informed that Izaya had anywhere from three to thirty minutes before his body gave out.
And that was where Izaya laughed. The sound was broken and deep like he was dry coughing and hacking up his innards. His upper half fell back forward, forehead almost touching the murderous surface. Shinra cringed, knowing that one wrong move and his friend's spine would fall apart. "Time? I don't have time?" And then he was choking on his own voice, struggling to keep it together.
"Izaya, stop moving so much," Shinra pushed gently on his shoulder to right him as comfortably as he could. He was staring now and Izaya forced his head from hanging to meet his gaze painfully. "Don't... don't... do you hurt?" Because if there was anything that Shinra could do to ease his suffering, he wanted to at least try. His heart clenched painfully, and he tried to stop his emotions from taking over. Izaya wouldn't be just another number. He would never allow himself to group Izaya in with the rest of the victims to impaired driving. He hated how his job had never and could never have prepared him for this. He needed to be strong and supportive, because Izaya didn't need him breaking down right now; that was Izaya's duty.
"Only here." Pressing a hand over his heart, Izaya let his mask fracture a little bit more, "It hurts right here. I'm... You know that I'm... terrified..." His bottom lip began to quiver whether it be from the cold or the shock, neither of them knew. Izaya's eyes widened, rusty brown irises soft and begging, and even though Shinra had never really called him a friend, he would do just about anything to ease Izaya along. It was amazing how much of a catalyst Izaya really was. Even now, he was evoking foreign emotions out of the doctor. "I don't want to die, Shinra!" He was shaking his head, like willing the facts to change would indeed change them.
They both knew that nothing could be done.
It was then that a tear slipped from underneath Shinra's glasses. "You won't be scared... soon."
"Shinra!" The doctor flinched when Izaya suddenly yelled, his hand curling around the others in a death grip, "how could you say that to me!? How could you... say that- I can't – cease – ceasing to exist is- it's-"
Ignoring the way the bones were threatening to crack in his hand, Shinra squeezed back and shut his eyes momentarily. Sometimes, he screwed up his words. He knew this and Izaya should have expected it. His left hand clenched around the informants shoulder as he let out a shuddering breath. Even like this, Izaya could scare people with their own mortality. He had acted like a God, and in some aspects, he had been treated like one too. The under world couldn't touch him, and even the Yakuza knew when to stay away. But here, pinned to a wall by a vehicle with a segregated spine, Izaya was nothing but human. And the fact that someone so deadly and feared could be taken out by coincidence alone – it left Shinra shivering. "You never make anything easy for me." Because even now, he was remembering and contemplating his own mortality, and how one day – any day – Celty might be left without him.
"Shut up," Izaya sniffed, averting his gaze again. He was obviously trembling and his skin was turning a haunting shade of white. "I love life. Being difficult is the least I can do."
"Like honestly. You've always made lasting impressions." He was trying to correct his slip up, trying to erase the extra wound that Izaya didn't need. Attempting to chuckle, they both knew that is was forced. "This will be-" he abruptly paused, not wanting to say this will be the last time I'll see you, for that would only break Izaya's pride even more. And so he stuttered. "This will be... good bye. Is there someone... you don't have much time... Izaya." Shinra leaned into him, letting his forehead fall gently against the side of Izaya's head. He ignored the crusted blood that was surely smearing onto his face. It wasn't important. What was important was the fact that Shinra regretted being so stubborn. He should have opened up more to Izaya when they had been younger. He had seen the way the informant retreated from people, he had seen all of the signs. But instead of stepping out and making him a friend, he had stubbornly waited for Izaya to come to him.
Shinra let out a soft breath. Now was not the time to be regretful. Izaya shuddered beneath him.
"Shizu-chan."
"Huh!?" Shinra abruptly pulled away, not quite believing what he was hearing. But the look in Izaya's eyes told him everything he needed to know, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Shinra had expected this. He had actually prepared for this. Eyeing the informant, Shinra took in a deep breath. The tears had dried on Izaya's cheeks again, and every second that passed could possibly be one second too much. "Okay."
And he didn't have to say anything, for Celty had heard and too understood. She had already called Shizuo into the area – just in case – and had left him a message to meet her at the park several blocks away. She had planned to use him as moral support, but with the turn of events, it was like fate was trying to either antagonize or apologize to Izaya before he passed. With a soft, mourning whinny, the black rider took off and into the darkness.
Izaya chuckled. "How long has it been?" He squeezed Shinra's hand weakly, leaning his head back. "It feels like we've been here for hours."
"Just wait, not yet." and he was forcing back his emotions again as he gently rubbed Izaya's shoulder, before jumping his fingers over the fur trim of his hood to massage his neck. It had only been six minutes since he had arrived. Six minutes, and there was no guarantee that Izaya would last any longer. "You surely have more to say, don't you?"
"Mmm," Izaya leaned his head over, eyelids suddenly heavy. "I'd tell you the secrets to my board game, but I doubt you'd want to here all about it." His voice wasn't wavering like it had been, and his attention seemed to be shot. His heart beat was slowing down, and the adrenaline that had coursed through his veins earlier was drying out, leaving him empty. Izaya let his eyes flutter close as his thoughts began to muddle together. And just as he realized that his fear of dying was receding, he also realized what that meant.
He sighed. "You know... we could have taken over the world... together."
Shinra laughed despite the fact that he was blatantly crying now. He jumped on board, right away. "We could have, with your brains and my restraint. With Shizuo too, his strength could have helped immensely. We would have been an unstoppable force, and an unmovable object combined into one."
"Mmmm," Izaya sniffed, squeezing Shinra's hand again, "Gods..."
It was then that the gravel nearby crunched. Shinra looked up, shocked that Celty had been so quick. Izaya simply forced his eyes open – with more difficulty than he let on, of course – and smiled weakly. "Shizu-chan."
Shizuo was removing his glasses as he approached, the shadows of the night playing against him in an unsettling way. He pocketed the shades inside his vest before letting his hands fall to his sides. His gentle caramel eyes landed on Izaya instantly. His face was void of any emotion.
Shinra unconsciously gripped Izaya's hand, wondering if Shizuo would just end it all right then and there. He waited until the blond met his watery eyes before he spoke. "Soon." He wasn't sure what to say, or how to go about explaining it, but it was a crucial moment.
Understanding the meaning behind the word, Shizuo glanced back to the deathly pale informant. Had it not been for the way his throat bobbed, Shinra would have thought that Shizuo didn't care at all. He lowered his face, struggling to come up with a coherent sentence. "Why me?"
The question was simple enough to cause Izaya to smile – more of a grimace – even though he couldn't support his own head anymore. He was leaning against Shinra, eyes fluttering closed. "Because. You're supposed to be here. I always expected you to be."
Shizuo seemed to ponder this before glancing back to Shinra, unsure. His gaze suddenly seemed more distant as he came to a conclusion. Shinra gave a slight nod, trusting Shizuo to make the right decision, before turning back to Izaya, supporting his head with a hand. The informant was incredibly cold to his touch, and Shinra's heart momentarily paused when he thought it was too late.
"You'd regret it." Izaya whispered. And then his serene expression suddenly went rigid as Shizuo stepped closer. He had no energy left to fight, and he felt once again the impending doom settle in his chest. He broke out into a frown, eyes still softly pleading for the life that was slipping away from him. To loose control so slowly, it was antagonizing. But even then, Izaya was struggling to hold on, because letting go was giving in. Would Shizuo end it for him? He couldn't hold out much longer.
Inhaling slowly and with no sign of hesitation, Shizuo mirrored Shinra and grabbed Izaya's hand while his other ever so gently found his neck. Both hands gave a reassuring squeeze, and Izaya forced a grin onto his mouth, for appearance only, letting his head drop to the other side. Shizuo sighed, closing his eyes. "You're right. I would regret it."
Weakly, Izaya clenched both of his hands. The frown was once again present on his face as he struggled to keep his mask. There was no point in holding on anymore. He was just hurting himself by drowning in the anticipation. Even with his two favourite humans by his side, it was hard to say goodbye. He inhaled softly, making sure that he had enough breath to evenly speak. "Then I'm ready."
And he was. Because a wet droplet had landed on his hand when Shizuo squeezed it, and it created a good enough sign that Izaya had achieved one of his secret life goals. It wasn't the reaction of the other person that he had been after, but rather he had wanted to experience at least once the warmth that would supposedly grow in his own heart from the emotion. "Goodbye."
Hate can breed love too, after all.