Izaya Orihara no longer knows how long he's been running for. He's long lost track of where he is in his mental map of Tokyo, turning every other corner in effort to throw them off of his trail to no avail. They haven't given up pursuit and the snarling behind his back only grows louder and closer every time he has to scale a fence. Izaya's heart thuds against his ribcage like an animal desperate to break the bars of its cage or die trying and if he stops running for a second he'll never catch another breath again.
The brunet turns down the next dark alley he finds, adrenaline keeping his sore feet and aching legs moving. He's severely disadvantaged, fatigue encroaching ever persistently and his breathing too shallow and quick to even keep his brain properly oxygenated. Stress pumps throughout his body like the blood in his veins and, if he's lucky, his heart will give out before they get to him.
Izaya can still hear their running feet on the pavement, the noise echoing around the cramped space and flooding his ears acidically. He counted three of them on his tail before he gave up on looking back, the image of rows upon rows of hungry razor sharp teeth imprinted forever in his mind like a burn brand on his skin. Sweat is clinging to every inch of his skin, his clothes sticking like a second skin, and it's a wonder that his soles haven't worn down to nubs by now.
Izaya exits one alley to race down another, mentally cursing the pervasive darkness of the new one. It's certainly past midnight and the moon is high in the sky despite the city lights keeping the stars from peppering the night sky. He can't see where he's going clearly enough, stumbling around some garbage that's littering the alleyway, and his eyes can't strain themselves anymore than they already are.
When Izaya meets a dead-end in the form of a solid brick wall, he doesn't have enough air in his lungs to sob.
The chasing feet slow down, crunching broken glass into the pavement as they know that they have him like a trapped rabbit. Izaya turns around, pressing his back against the brick wall for support as his lungs heave in and out, back and forth like a ship during a storm. He yanks out his switchblade, flicking the blade open too soon and cutting part of his jean pocket open. His weapon is ultimately useless, he fully knows, but Izaya refuses to die like trapped prey. He can't take on one of those beasts as he is now, and he's aware that taking on three or more is an impossible task, but going out with a fight is all he can hope for now.
Izaya's squinting eyes trace around the dark alley, his lungs stuttering with their next breath as one of them slowly steps down the center of the alley towards him. His sore muscles brace themselves, anticipating the beast to charge at him, maw open.
There's another crunch of gravel and Izaya's eyes go wide as they dart to the rooftop on his right. A second beast peers over the ledge, teeth on display and drool dripping from their bared jaw. There's two more similar sounds from his left and a creaky sob finally escapes his lips as he realizes that he's too frightened to even check.
It's a mistake and he knows it.
One of the beasts takes advantage of his fear, leaping from the rooftop and biting into his shoulder as they land on their four feet. Izaya screams in pain as their teeth tear into his flesh like tissue paper and he's yanked forward like a rag-doll. With all he can muster, he plunges his blade into one of its eyes. Twisting the handle with a sickening squelch, he gouges the beast's eye. It releases him with a howl of pain, backing away with its head bowed and bleeding. As it retreats, another descends from its perch on the right, jaw clamping down on Izaya's wrist. The brunet hears and feels the snap of his bones under its strength as its teeth rip into his skin and muscle. Dropping his blade with a whimper, Izaya gasps as he struggles to stay on his two feet with the beast twisting and dragging him forward.
One of the beasts on the rooftops suddenly howls, the sound hitting Izaya's body like ice water. The one biting his wrist releases him, their attention drawn to the noise, and Izaya slumps forward to the ground. He crawls backwards as best as he can manage, propping himself up against the brick of the dead-end. Izaya doubts that whatever that has captured their attention will save him from an agonizing death from being ripped limb from limb or eaten alive, but he lets the morbid hope of bleeding to death first bubble in the pit of his stomach regardless.
In a fit of madness, Izaya laughs aloud, the noise choked and broken like a strained, hissing kettle. He had always presumed that Shizuo would be his end, if not a Yakuza hit. But wolves? In Tokyo no less! How fucking absurd! Yet, here he was!
There's more glass crunching by the entrance of the alley, the noise tensing the wolves surrounding the informant. Izaya's too distracted to care, the haze of pain distorting everything and causing his vision to spin and swim. They've dismissed their injured prey for something else, the two in the alley backing up as if to protect their meal from theft.
One wolf bares its teeth with a growl and snarl, the blood from Izaya's wrist painting their teeth red. Groggily, Izaya tries to focus his eyes on his possible savior as they approach and put his attackers on edge. The brunet guffaws at the familiar sight, positive that he's fully lost it now.
"What the fuck are you doing in Ikebukuro, huh?" Shizuo demands gruffly around a lit cigarette. Strangely enough, the blond doesn't appear to be addressing Izaya, his eyes carefully scanning the beasts before finally landing on the injured informant.
The one-eyed wolf rears back as the other steps forward. Its lips have drawn up to fully display its bloody teeth and gums and it growls again. Shizuo's eyes tick with annoyance as if its spoken something that's greatly inconvenienced him. The wolf on the right rooftop leaps down into the alley, baring its teeth with its own snarl.
"Alright," the blond says, dropping his cigarette to the floor and grinding it out under his sole.
The bloody-mouthed wolf doesn't show hesitation, charging forward and biting Shizuo's left arm as it had Izaya. The blond's neutral expression creases as he lifts his arm, wolf attached, to inspect it. The beast's eyes widen with shock as it releases him and drops to the ground to back away. With only a miniscule bite-mark left behind, the only real damage Shizuo wears is his newly torn sleeve.
"My brother gave me this shirt." He states, voice creeping deeper. A familiar expression of anger situates on Shizuo's face as he carefully undoes the buttons of his vest.
"Don't you know any fucking etiquette?!" The blond spits at them once he's thrown his vest to the side and starts on removing his belt and pants.
Izaya's suddenly no longer convinced that he's not in a dream, though the pain is quite extraordinary for a dream. At the very least, if he can't admit physical attraction to the protozoan to himself on his deathbed, when can he? And wouldn't you know it, he was right! Sometimes the blond did go commando.
Dress shirt already ruined, it doesn't get the same treatment Shizuo's other articles of clothing got. The white material rips open like a wet envelope between his fingers and his shoes and socks are tugged off and thrown towards the pile of clothing, leaving him fully naked in the dark alley.
Shizuo stands up straight, wholly unperturbed by his state of dress (or rather lack thereof) in front of his enemy. He takes a slow, deep breath and his shoulder violently jerks forward with a disturbing pop as his arm dislocates itself. Izaya startles back against the wall, pressing impossibly closer against the brick as his widening eyes flood with disbelief.
The blond's brown body hair stands on end and grows before Izaya's very eyes. One by one, the joints in Shizuo's fingers jump out of place, bending the digits unnaturally as the bones break and elongate before restructuring themselves. Fragments of bone jut awkwardly against the underside of his skin, leaving little to Izaya's imagination.
Shizuo's honey brown eyes glow golden in the dark alley, Izaya's gaze fixating on the supernatural color until his enemy's jaw cracks and snaps out of place with a startling noise that grates against Izaya's ears like two rocks colliding and grinding against one another. His teeth are being forced up and back for a stronger, sharper set as his jaw grows longer. Each one making a soft clack as its superior takes its spot. Izaya tries to blame his wave of nausea on the pain and blood-loss as Shizuo's taunt skin pulls itself tighter as his chest reorients his bones and organs, thick fur thankfully cropping up to obscure his view.
He's gotta be dreaming! This can't be real! If Shizuo really has been a monster this whole time, Izaya's going to feel ridiculous and like he's wasted so much of his time! But, more importantly, stupid. How the blond had kept this from him for so long, Izaya wants to live long enough to know!
Three wolves now stand in the alleyway. Two black and bloody and one brown. Their body masses are too similar, all three twice as large as a normal wolf. On all fours, the only physical advantage Shizuo seems to have over them is a few centimeters of height, but Izaya knows full well how Shizuo's appearance is deceiving.
The one-eyed wolf paces in front of the brunet, blocking his sight with its body, as the other braces itself for an attack, its muscles tensing. Unable to see their silent game of chicken clearly, Izaya's gaze flies to his abandoned knife in the alley. It's out of his reach, underneath the front legs of wounded attacker. With one wrist fractured and torn and his other hand's shoulder not much better, the switchblade would be more of a security blanket than a weapon. However, none of that stops Izaya from keeping it's location in his mind.
Two more wolves drop down from the rooftops, surrounding Shizuo on all sides. His head tilts very slightly, his ears twitching towards the noise. Slowly, his upper lip lifts and he bares his canines, his vibrating growl deeper and different from the voice Izaya's accustomed to.
Izaya can't tell who makes the first move, but there's an immediate whine of pain and one of the wolves meets one of the adjacent walls with a heavy smack and crack as the wall crumbles under the force of the toss. It's out cold from the blow, an open wound bleeding profusely on one of its front legs.
Two wolves dive at Shizuo as he snarls. One latches its jaw onto his front left leg as another bites his right rear leg. They both tug in opposite directions, neither able to force him to budge. He emits a sound more like that of a roar than a growl, twisting his head and biting his front attacker at their neck. Wolf trapped between the former blond's stronger teeth, he turns on his heels and charges into the closest wall, slamming the opposing wolf into the brick and cracking a few of its ribs. It gives on impact, releasing him and slumping woundedly to the pavement. The one clamping on his rear leg releases him with a whine, having been dragged across the glass riddled floor of the alleyway.
Suddenly, one of the uninjured wolves howls and Shizuo freezes. His agitated and tense posture relaxes, standing confidently still. One of the wolves gutturally hisses at him as its injured allies limp behind them. The one-eyed wolf retreats with its head bowed but fangs bared as it has to circle around Shizuo towards the exit. Shizuo waits patiently, ears twitching and eyes unfocused as he listens closely to be sure they've fled far enough away.
Three minutes pass before he turns around to look at Izaya and his injuries. The brunet groans as he shifts against the brick wall, trying to stand and failing as his legs scream bloody murder at him. With one shoulder severely damaged and one wrist useless, he can't even use the wall for support to help him stand.
Shizuo's transformation is as grotesque in reverse as it was forward. The cacophony of snapping and cracking bones and the popping and clicking of relocating joints sickening Izaya more as it triggers his pain to renew with the fresh memory of his attack. He squeezes his eyes shut with another groan as he situates his injured wrist to be cradled against his chest before taking another look.
From Izaya's angle on the ground against the dead-end, Shizuo's head raises back against the center of the full moon. Golden hair and eyes glowing against the backdrop of the pale full moon, Izaya's not sure if he wants to vomit or laugh in the moment.
Bare feet slapping against the pavement, the blond doesn't waste time approaching and squatting in front of Izaya. To the brunet's chagrin, he still doesn't seem concerned about his lack of attire either.
Shizuo's eyes are still glowing unnaturally, the intense and serious gaze he's fixing the informant carrying more threat than ever before. "If you tell anyone about me," Shizuo starts too calmly and evenly for Izaya's dwindling sanity, "I'll track those shitheads back down and hand you over to them personally. Got it?"
Izaya smiles sharply despite his pain. "I'm bleeding out, Shizu-chan, not developing mental retardation."
Shizuo's nose crinkles with annoyed disgust, the action carrying a new animalistic quality to it. "Of all the fucking people," he curses aloud to himself as he treks back to his pants for his phone. Shooting a quick text to Celty giving her their location, Shizuo casually redresses himself and helps himself to a smoke while he waits.
The alleyway is almost pleasantly silent until Izaya laughs, his chest shaking painfully as it quickly morphs into full-on cackling. Disoriented from pain and blood-loss, Izaya croaks, "You're a fucking monster, Shizu-chan."
"Should've just let them eat you," Shizuo muses to himself with a shake of his head.
