A/N:This is a redone version of my previous fanfic, Enemy, where Shizu-chan and Izaya switch bodies. As you've noticed, I've been busy editing my stories, first Game of the future, then The Horror, the Horror. Well, today it's the Iza and Shizu body switch's turn to receive some editing. As some of it is radically out of character. I do so love a good body switch.

For some reason, I just adore TFs and body switches. I've adored body switches since I was a kid. Does anyone remember the name of that book where the man and his dog go to an island paradise populated only by birds and they start turning into birds? Am I the only one who wanted them to turn into birds the entire way? :/ I really adored Animorphs, too.

However, I suck at writing TF fanfics, I'm just now starting to become confident in my ability to draw them. So I'm sticking to body swap fics.

Chapter 1 Why the hell do I look like the flea? Since when was I Orihara Izaya?

My name's Shizuo Heiwajima.

If you know me, you probably know me from all the stupid stories that people say about me; that people say I'm a terrible, horrifying, no good, very bad person. Mention my name to anyone in the street and they will know who I am.

The only one who's not afraid of me is that flea, Izaya Orihara. And as everyone in Ikebukuro knows, we hate each other. We fight every time we see each other and at the same time, when the flea's not in Ikebukuro, I feel a little annoyed. There have actually been times where people have come up to me and assumed that we were lovers, at which point I kicked their asses.

As far as I'm concerned, that damned flea sucks. I hate him, I cannot stand looking at his face.

So you may ask. What do you think will happen when Shizuo Heiwajima wakes up looking like Izaya Orihara and vice versa?

Chaos, the world ends.

Nonsense, the world goes on. It's just that my life in that sudden moment went upside down and it did not need to be that way at all. Even thinking about it now pisses me off.

But me and Izaya understand each other better now.

Still doesn't mean I wish that wouldn't have happened to me.

How the hell did that happen, you ask? Isn't that a good question.

The last thing I remember beforehand is that both of us were fighting. Like usual.

We faced each other like usual. Nothing strange there.

Izaya got bored and went home, and so did I.

As soon as I went home, I felt awfully tired, so I got myself something to eat, and watched a TV show before I got into my pajamas and fell asleep, I was so exhausted. The last thing I remember is waving goodbye to Tom-san and going to sleep.

By the time I woke up, though, I wouldn't be myself again.

Sometimes, these jobs of mine take hours, so I'm not surprised when it takes a while to complete. That is why nothing seemed off about me waking up in the morning...until I was really awake, that is.

Then I would be where I wasn't supposed to be.

That night, I had a very odd dream.

I dreamed that Izaya was chasing me, but instead of me throwing things at him, he was throwing things at me and screaming my name as I was laughing. It was really, really odd and annoying.

I remember thinking one thing: thank god I don't have the same poor fashion sense as the flea.

I was starting to wake up and be free of this nightmare, thank god.

The scenes of me laughing were too nightmarish for me to bear.

As the dream faded away, I was slowly starting to wake up, back to reality for another work day with Tom-san, Vorona and maybe even meet Akane. And beat the shit out of the stupid flea.

As I started to wake up, the first thing I registered was that I didn't hear my alarm clock ringing, which was fucking odd.

I mean, my brother gives me enough money to replace the many alarm clocks I break, so when I didn't hear it ring, that pissed me off. Now you're probably thinking, I should have figured out something was wrong. But I'm not a genius like the damned flea.

I yawned and stretched, making myself more comfortable on my bed; then my hand brushed up against something awfully soft. Whatever it was, I liked the feeling of it, so I curled up against it and continued sleeping, content. That is, until an asshole disturbed Shizuo Heiwajima's sleep. The voice of the asshole was someone I didn't know.

"Wake up, you jerk!"

It was a female voice, but oh well, anyone who called me a jerk had better be prepared to get their ass kicked.

"Fuck off," I shot back, rolling over again. I was not in the mood. I was perfectly comfortable where I was, asleep on the fluffiest thing imaginable. I didn't remember my blankets being so comfortable, but whatever it was, I felt myself drifting off again.

"You'd better wake up! I need my paycheck! You'd better wake up this instant, you bastard!"

The fuck? Paycheck?

"Wake the fuck up!"

At that instant, there was a sudden smack. Had I been hit with something?

Well, of course my eyes flew open. Startled and still bleary-eyed, I sat up and rubbed my head.

As my eyes adjusted to the bright light, I blinked again as I took in a person I'd never seen before.

A woman with long, dark brown (maybe black?) hair in an odd-looking outfit was sitting by my bed, glaring at me. I didn't know who she was. Was she another debt collector? Someone who wanted me dead? I had plenty of those, perhaps she was just another person I'd pissed off and forgotten about.

Before I could say anything, she spoke first.

"You can save the plethora of excuses you probably have for why you haven't woken up," She snapped, "Orihara."

I tensed. Did she just call me Orihara? As in my worst enemy, the flea, that Orihara Izaya? What the fuck did the flea have to do with this?

I stared at her blankly because I, Heiwajima Shizuo, was utterly confused. 'Why the fuck had she called me Orihara?'

"Orihara, don't play games with me." She hissed.

I looked around. I didn't see Izaya anywhere. 'That's strange.'

"Orihara, I'm talking to you. Did you hit your head and lose your memory?" She sneered.

This lady was going to be rubbish in a few seconds, if she pissed me off any more than she already had.

"What the fuck are you talking about? I'm not the fucking flea!"

I paused for a few seconds, then raised a brow.

Was that my voice?

Why did it sound like I had gotten a cold of some sort? Since when was my voice so nasally?

It sounded utterly obnoxious. Much like this annoying lady here.

The woman snorted. "Ha, you're my egotistical boss, Izaya Orihara. You think you're better than everyone else!"

I glared at her. "I'm not the goddamn flea! Whoever you are, piss off!"

The fuck, this must be a dream, I can't just sound like Izaya.

"All right, if this is your idea of a joke, I'm leaving," She snarled, "I don't care!"

With that, she slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

Geez, what a rude woman! What the fuck had I done wrong?

Groaning in annoyance, I yawned again and flopped back down on my bed, but I was too awake now to stay asleep.

As I sat up some more and looked up at the ceiling, I blinked a few times. Why did the ceiling appear to be so far away from me now?

Had I shrunk into a mouse while asleep or something?

"What the hell did I put in my milk last night?" I grumbled, running a hand through my hair for a few moments. My hair felt smoother than usual. Maybe it wasn't a bedhead for once.

As I glanced down casually, I stared at the black t-shirt I was wearing. I'd never seen this before.

Come to think of it, I didn't recognize these covers, either.

As I tried to see, my bangs obscured my vision.

"Fuck off. Even my own hair's annoying me today." I growled.

In annoyance, I pushed them back with my fingers.

"Why the fuck did she call me Orihara?" I muttered to myself.

No answers came, of course.

I whipped back my bed covers and looked around. I didn't recognize this room. It was not my bedroom at all.

My bedroom did not look this fancy.

"What kind of joke is this?" I muttered.

My voice still sounded fucking annoying.

I cleared my throat. Dammit, I do not need to sound like that.

And also, it stunk for some reason.

It stunk of Izaya.

As I looked around, a flash of something...black caught my eye.

Aha, the flea was here! I saw his jacket. It was unmistakable.

I reached my arm out to catch the flea in his tracks.

"Caught you, Izaya!" I cried.

Izaya was nowhere in sight.

Furrowing my brow in honest confusion, I looked down at myself and my eyes widened.

A very familiar fur coat was draped around me. Why the fuck did I have the flea's coat on?

The coat wasn't too small for me, either, instead it fit me.

Why was I wearing it?

It was definitely Izaya's.

I studied it, in confusion, utterly puzzled. I then realized that the fur on the sides was probably the fluffy thing I'd felt.

I'd thought Izaya's jacket was comfortable? A vein throbbed on my head.

"Why would the damned flea give me his clothes?" I muttered.

It had the same fluffy fur on the sleeves and the neck.

Where was that stupid flea, anyway?

This all seemed like some trick of his.

As I did that, something inside me snapped. With both hands, I attempted to lift up the bed, thinking I could hit myself on the head with it. The bed moved for a few moments, however I soon found that I couldn't even lift the bed. Instead, I got tired and my arms were aching.

"What the fuck?" Was all I could say.

I tried again. It just...didn't work.

For some reason, I no longer had the strength to lift up things.

Angrily, I attempted to lift up a shelf. No use.

"What the fuck is going on!?" I snarled, very, very annoyed at this point.

Izaya was going to pay. Damned flea.

I decided to inspect my hands, to see what the fuck was wrong with my body. I noticed that my body felt...lighter, if you could say that? Like, not as sturdy as before. Had I gone on a diet?

As I lifted my hands up in front of my face, I noticed several oddities.

First of all, I didn't see the same calluses on my hands.

Second, my hands were thinner than I remembered and my skin was paler. When was my skin so pale? Was I a vampire now?

As my eyes scanned over my hands, I stopped as I noticed something glinting on my left hand. I tried to pull it off. I realized what it was, it was a silver ring.

There was a silver ring on my left hand. More specifically, on my left index finger. I frowned, staring at it.

When had I decided to wear rings?

My right hand also had a silver ring on the same spot.

I swore I'd seen these rings before.

Wait, didn't the flea wear these?

A sudden panic ran through me. What the fuck was going on?

As I walked around, I felt very off-balance.

I was indeed, shorter than I had been before. Shorter only by a foot.

But still, it was significant enough that I noticed it and cringed.

My feet were just as pale and unrecognizable, too. Where were all the injuries I'd gotten?

"What kind of an absurd, paradoxical situation is this?" I said all at once, frowning.

Wait a second...that voice.

I knew that voice very well.

That was not my voice.

That was...that was...

My voice sounded like...the flea's.

But that couldn't be! No fucking way! This had to be a bad dream!

I casually put my hand inside Izaya's jacket, and I felt something in it. I slid it out, it was a...switchblade? Sure enough, the familiar metal glinted in the light coming in from the window. The flea would never let me get my hands on his weapon.

Why did I have it?

The panic in my heart quickly turned to fear and outright horror.

This was not right.

My head spun with questions.

Why had that woman been so hostile to me?

Why had she called me Orihara?

Why was I shorter?

Why was my skin paler?

Why was I wearing Izaya's jacket to begin with?

I spun around, looking for Izaya, but I didn't see him anywhere.

"Come out, you bastard." I hissed, clapping a hand over my mouth.

There it was again!

My hands trailed across my hair for a few moments.

Why did my hair feel so different? It felt smoother and messier, not to mention it was spikier.

Another list of questions descended upon me. For some reason, my hair had grown while I was asleep.

I pushed my black locks away from my face and-

Wait a fucking second...black? Are you fucking serious?

When was my hair ever black?

That was impossible!

Sure, my hair was brown at the roots, and dyed blond, but never black.

Unless...unless!

I felt the urge to vomit rise up in me as I grabbed at the bangs framing my face so I could see them. Just to make sure I wasn't being delusional.

My hair was black. Definitely, unmistakably black.

I stopped at that moment, then immediately charged into a different room. First, it was a kitchen, then a closet, and finally the fucking bathroom.

I ran into the bathroom. I had to see the mirror, I had to see my fucking reflection.

I let out a horrified gasp.

I did not see a blond-haired, brown-eyed guy staring back; in other words, me, Shizuo.

Instead, I saw a face I hated all too much.

Izaya Orihara stared back at me. He had the same black hair, same crimson eyes.

And that stench. That same annoying stench...was coming from me?

I didn't remember "oh, let's turn into the flea" on today's list!

I spun around. No Izaya.

I turned back around. Izaya was still there, staring at me.

My mouth fell open as I attempted to speak, but found I was too flabbergasted to make the proper vowels necessary.

"No fucking way..."

As I mouthed those words, the flea imitated me.

I stared, until I did the only thing I could do. I punched the mirror with all my might, but instead of breaking it, my hand hurt...badly. And it started to bleed.

"Shit!" I cried out, "Fuck, that hurts!"

I fell backwards in shock, probably not used to being so fucking short.

"WHY THE FUCK DO I LOOK LIKE THE FLEA?" I cried. "Shit, I even sound like the flea!"

How did I turn into Izaya?

This is the worst day of my life.

I started hyperventilating then.

I wanted my body back already, dammit!

"I don't want to be Izaya!" I yelped.

It was imperative that I call anyone, Tom, Shinra, to explain the situation, although I realized Tom would not believe Orihara Izaya. I was pretty sure I was in the flea's apartment.

How the hell would I be able to explain Heiwajima Shizuo's hair turning black, his eyes turning red and looking like Izaya?

No one would believe that.

Cursing loudly, I dug in Izaya's pocket for a cell phone, dragged it out and then dialed my home number.

I heard my own voice (in other words, Izaya) answering.

"Hello? Who's calling?"

"Flea, get the hell out of my body?"

"Shizu-chan?" He muttered.

"Look in your fucking mirror!" I cried.

I heard the flea scream.

"My, my, Shizu-chan, it looks like we've switched bodies."

"I don't want to look like you! Give me my body back!" I snapped. "What did you do?"

"Nothing, I woke up like this." He snapped.

"Shut up!" I growled.

"I see Shizu-chan, no Iza-chan sounds adorably angry."

My fists tightened.

"You're gonna have to act like me. And by the way, Kida-kun should be stopping in."

Then he hung up.

Great, Izaya had a guest and I had to act like the shitty flea.

I punched the wall.

I hated having to shower in the stupid flea's body.

I hated this so much.

As I sat there, I looked at Izaya's computer and tried my best to not freak out. I wanted to punch everything with a reflection.

The doorbell rang.

I already wanted this day to be over with.

"Come in." I growled.

"Open the damned door." Definitely a young voice.

I'd heard that voice before.

"Come in yourself." I grumbled.

The door immediately slammed open as a blond kid came in.

I knew this kid but I didn't remember his name.

"Could you not slam the door?" I snapped.

"Izaya!" The kid snarled.

"Shut up," I growled.

"No sarcastic greeting?" The kid sneered before throwing himself into a chair.

"Could you be respectful? I have a headache."

"I don't give a fuck!" He cried back.

"Shut up!" I growled, hitting something. Then I immediately held my hand, wincing. "Does it look like I give a flying feather what you think?"

"Izaya, are you all right?" The kid asked.

"Say that name, kid, and I'll punch you through the wall."

"Izaya...? What's wrong with you?" He asked. "You're not even calling me by my name."

"Okay, blondie." I said sarcastically. "Whatever it is you want, I don't care."

"You know my name, right?"

I stared at him blankly.

"You have amnesia, don't you? It's my lucky day, Izaya has amnesia!"

"I'm not the flea!" I snapped.

"You...you..."

"Got any cigarettes?" I added, as a prerogative.

The kid's mouth flopped open.

"You...you're not Izaya..." He was suddenly shaking. "You're..."

"I'm who?" I grumbled, folding my arms and glaring, attempting to pick up the chair but failing.

"You're Shizuo Heiwajima...but why do you look like Izaya? You're not gonna kill me, right?"

"Relax, kid. I can't do that if I wanted to. Izaya's body is weak as shit. What makes you think I can pick you up and throw you across the room?" I grumbled.

He looked relieved. "Thank god, you're not Izaya. You seem friendlier, I guess."

"And what's your name, kid?" I said.

"I'm Kida Masaomi."

"Ki-what?"

"Kida Masaomi."

"Quit it with the gestures, kid! You high?" I snapped.

"All right, Shizuo-san! Is Izaya in your body?"

I nodded.

"All right, that means I can leave!"

"Hang on, kid, I don't know how to act like Izaya!"

"Oh," He said, looking shocked.