Rain. Oh how ironic it is that it was raining.
It dripped, and made Shizuo's hair cling to his face, his clothes drenched and making for a sad, solemn sight. It cleaned away the blood, it trickled along the ground and pulled all untruths away, leaving the unmistakeable.
Izaya was going to die.
Shizuo's eyes peered out from under blond locks, staring towards the mess he had made. Izaya stared right back, crimson orbs flickering faintly as a small smirk tugged at his lips.
"No."
Shizuo clenched his fist tighter, his knuckles already white from the pressure.
"You can't die."
"Ahh..." Izaya interjected with a wheeze. His words were breathy, and forced. "But I am. Even you can see that... stupid protozoan."
There was no bite to his words. No teasing.
Shizuo glanced over at the vending machine, the very thing he had tossed at Izaya earlier, had moved off of his crushed body. He had never expected the informant to get trapped under it. Then again, neither had Izaya. Neither could kill each other. It was a simple fact, one that everyone in Ikebukuro knew. And yet, this happened. The vending machine had trapped him under its bulk, and most of Izaya was flattened out from the force. Only his upper chest, head, and one arm had survived the crushing.
Shizuo's knees buckled, bringing him down to kneel in the puddles besides Izaya. He stared at his knees, hands still clenched, and quivering.
"I don't want to die, Shizu-chan.." Izaya mumbled, and Shizuo lifted his head to look at his pained face.
"You see, I'm afraid of dying. I've always had a dream, to create the perfect war, and then get whisked away to Valhalla." the informant babbled, still grinning out of his own sick perversion.
Shizuo stared, his face blank. "You're delusional, flea." he muttered, though there wasn't any real threat in his voice.
"Perhaps I am. Nevertheless.. I do not want to die, to disappear before I can complete my goal..."
Izaya's eyes closed softly, disappointment on his face. Shizuo grimaced, before feeling something cold brush his cheek. He blinked, seeing Izaya's soaked hand lifted towards him. Izaya had another smirk.
"Maybe Shizu-chan has enough room inside him for my soul." he teased, weakly, coughing.
"Does Shizu-chan have any room in his body to share with me, so that one day I might be able to go to Valhalla?"
Shizuo frowned, brow furrowing. Izaya shouldn't be staring at him like that, so weakly. His expression was a terrible, weak impression of what it used to be, of what he used to be. Shizuo couldn't take that. It pissed him off.
"You don't have a soul. And even if you did, I wouldn't share my body with it. It disgusts me to even think you would suggest something so repulsive! You make me sick!" Shizuo yelled, raising a fist and punching the ground, just to the left of those damp, raven locks. His hands clenched the wet fur of his jacket, shaking it harshly, ignoring the disgusting sounds of his crushed body lifting and shaking along with it. "You're sick! Disgusting! I did the world a favor, killing you! Crushing you! Maybe I should have aimed more and actually had the fucking thing land on your head, that way I wouldn't have to listen to you running your damn mouth!"
Izaya didn't respond. Shizuo stopped shaking him. Izaya's eyes were closed again, and his mouth still in that smug grin.
"You bastard..." Shizuo growled, voice shaking, setting Izaya down on the ground again and forcing himself to let go. "Of all times to stop talking."
He dragged a hand down his face. Something uncomfortable lodged itself in his throat, in the pit of his stomach. He felt sick. What was it, remorse? Regret? He looked back at the stilled body beside him.
"You can't just die off like this. You can't. You're stronger than that, flea."
No response.
Shizuo bent over a little, his stomach knotting painfully. "You can't die. It's like you're running away again. And this time.."
He struggled back, sitting on his heels, staring at the sky.
His hands lay limply at his sides, palms facing up.
"This time I can't chase you."
The police had swarmed the area, blocked it off, and questioned incessantly. Shizuo had said nothing the entire time. What could he say? Everyone knew what had happened. The fortissimo of Ikebukuro had finally done what he had said he would.
The day had been a blur. Someone had dragged him out of that place, so that he wouldn't get taken and put in custody. So that he wouldn't be caged. He wouldn't have been able to resist, he was so numb. The cold, the rain, the images of Izaya, his voice... they all haunted him.
When he had finally gotten back to his humble apartment, and he had taken that suggested shower, he walked out and wrapped a towel around him, mindlessly. All he could do is stare at the mirror. His bathroom mirror, which showed not his own reflection, but rather, Izaya, staring right back.
Crimson eyes crinkled with a playful grin.
"Ne, ne, even though your lips said no, your heart said yes, didn't it?"
A/n: I'm not dead yet! I'll get working on Dead Pet City soon, I swear ;~; But this just randomly came to me today while sitting in the sunroom, listening to the Suckerpunch soundtrack and the constant thunderstorms going on outside. It's.. really different from the other things I've written, though for some reason it feels like an offshoot of Another Birth. Dunno why. I'm rambling. Anyways, thanks for reading!
