I've never written a Durarara fic and honestly haven't written anything in around two or three months now due to personal reasons so my writing might be a little shaky. Also to anyone who's read/is reading Believe in Me, I will update, I promise, I just need some time to think about where the story will head off to. This is a one shot, at least I think it is, I just figured that Izaya sort of deserved more than a black eye for his many trollings so wrote this to give that. I don't own anything, not the amazing characters, not the city, nothing at all except the way these words were strung together. Anyways, thank you for reading, have a nice night. ^^ Or day. Or anything really.

Powerful chilled winds slipped through the small cavern between his moderately smooth vest and the crisp, white, long-sleeved shirt that was resting underneath, the rippling clothing creating a soothing effect on the wearer. It had been an estimated three months (he wasn't one to keep track of time) since the gang war and the mass panic in Ikebukuro had slowed to a gentle stop. Never had it been so peaceful for so long and Shizuo realized that he rarely got as angry as he previously did anymore. With Izaya Orihara gone as the sneaky male had promised on that heavenly day where he admitted to planning to leave town after the massive effort Shizuo had placed to force him to go away there was a cool chill to the city that made it feel different in a way. Now the excitement had fallen asleep, going dormant into a state of quaint relaxation. People paid their taxes the second Tom asked so there was little need to toss whatever large object was available at anyone, the color gangs had either vanished completely or gone into hiding so there were less crimes and less chances of getting shot like he had been at the climax of the gang war… It was safe, though rather dull, but dullness was a quality that Shizuo wasn't going to complain about. It was better than the alternative. Excitement attracted fleas after all, and there was one particular bug that he didn't want to ever have to exchange glances with again.

The skies were clear besides a few mildly grey clouds predicting a chance of rain in the far, far future scattered about the endless, toneless blue. The blonde was leaning against the almost uncomfortably textured wall in wait for the tax collector to exit from his job, only really there to supervise in case a debtor grew agitated and attacked and, with the peaceful times as of late, there was no real need for him to stand as a threat indoors. Honey eyes focused mindlessly into the depths of the teal sky from behind the shade of purple-tinted glasses, the illuminated lights in the windows of the skyscrapers that pierced the air with their towering glory not comparing enough to the sun, which was probably shyly hiding behind some building since it's radiance wasn't directly visible. Despite the winter months coming to a closure it was still cold enough, and each gust of wind sent a small, involuntary shiver up his spine. He had refused as he always did to change out of his bartender's clothes, the clothes his brother had given him and the clothes that were the small piece of the future he had shattered that he could still control. It defeated the purpose to wear them if he didn't even have the job anymore and wouldn't get it ever again (drunks pissed him off) but for some reason he felt more comfortable with the tie and vest than with a warm jacket to resist the chill. It was quiet, or at least as quiet as it could be in the city. Car horns and wheels squealed all around, chatter clamored through the slightly polluted air, and all forms of noise echoed around him, but after living in Ikebukuro for so long sounds like that seemed to dull to almost nothing. There were no voices nearby and no cars nearby, it was a thin street and was rarely traveled upon by those who didn't know better. Tom would be in the building for a while with these sorts of people, but the man had asked Shizuo not to cause any difficulty with these particular clients and in all honesty the taller man of the two hardly cared. In the meantime he could smoke and zone out and enjoy the span of time he had not having to erupt into a violent beast. How wrong had he been. He shouldn't have spoken so simply.

"Shizu-chan…!" His eyes snapped open and with that single voice the calm had shattered into a torrent, a storm inside of him that he had auto-set to attempt to calm himself. No. There was no way that idiot was back. He had learned his lesson, the town, no the world hated him and he was better off just staying out. But to his disdain Shizuo glanced over slowly to see a cocky grin from across the pavement, raven hair that had just barely grown in length since its last appearance, and the single bastard that could set him off by simply existing. "Izaya..." The blonde growled in return, his eyes narrowing and his teeth gritting around the burnt-out cigarette, the force automatically dropping the rolled paper to sizzle on the ground at his feet, only to be stomped on by a heavy heel that ground it to dust into the concrete. Right when he thought he was through with that flea the damned thing had returned to torment him further. "I thought I told you…" Right away his hands reached out and gripped around a stop sign that was within grasp, the metal of the pole crunching under his fingers as if it were of the same material as a tin can. Izaya's smirk slowly widened to show a glint of white teeth on his cat-like expression, a knife slipping out of his sleeve and into his awaiting hand as if he had both anticipated and prepared beforehand for the fight yet to come. "…to never set foot in Ikebukuro…" And with a fierce snarl and monstrous strength the large, heavy sign was sent flying with perfect accuracy towards the dark-haired man. "…again!" But, as if he had also timed the speed of the projectile, Izaya had lunged to the side, making his motions appear as if he put no effort into them, easily dodging the sign with a laugh as it crashed and scraped against the ground, eventually coming to a stop forcefully against a wall. "You're too mean, Shizu-chan! I only came to say hello, it's not polite to be so rude to an old friend. It got too boring just hiding," he teased as he, with no issue at all, avoided multiple other chunks and pieces of metal and whatever else the powerful man had within reach to chuck at him, a playful atmosphere around him despite anyone else in their right minds behind scared to death of Shizuo Heiwajima. Perhaps he just wasn't in his right mind. The brunette had questioned this for a few days, concluding that he honestly didn't care. "I'm going to kill you this time for sure, Izaya-kun!" The name was drawn out as the blonde hissed his words out, his own murderous grin coming forth as an almost crazed expression took over his previously calm and uncaring tone. He didn't hear or expect a response as he tossed the bright yellow hood of an unfortunate car towards the faster of the two who front flipped over it as if it weren't flying twice as high as the man was tall. The flea wasn't just fast, he was stealthy as hell, and within a split second Izaya had retaliated, racing forward and with one quick slice there was a slight sting at his stomach. Glancing downwards he saw the glint of the knife's metal in the sunlight, half submerged into his gut, stained with a red liquid that was running through a large tear in his vest. Though it hurt a little that was nothing… but his vest… "You little…" Izaya chuckled as he jerked his knife away, jumping backwards just in time to avoid having his arm grabbed and crushed by an angry hand, flicking his blade so that the blood flung off the point and onto the ground. "I thought you were going to kill me. You've gotten weaker, Shizu-chan." His carefree tone lowered halfway through his sentence to something more predatory, a glint in his slightly narrowed eyes indicating that, despite the playful act, this time he was serious. He was back and, as always, was prepared to kill if necessary.

Then something even further unexpected happened. As Shizuo gripped onto the concrete block of wall beside him, ready to tear the entire building down to find another piece of heavy material to throw at the stupid rat, there was a small buzz that echoed from his opponent's form. They were both obviously surprised, freezing up mid-motion, as Izaya reached down and slipped his grey phone from his pocket. This was the perfect chance, Shizuo thought with a hopeful spirit boosting in him, tossing a hunk of the outside of the building he had been leaning on before the flea showed up at the designated target, just to have it avoided again. Izaya, without even taking his focus off of the tiny, bright screen, simply leaned to the side and allowed the grey stone to soar barely past his shoulder. Dropping the phone back into his pocket he sighed and turned away, glancing over his shoulder with his hand raised in a symbol similar to a peace sign, as if he were waving Shizuo off. "Sorry, Shizu-chan, work is calling. I'll deal with you later," he chimed before taking off down the street. "Oh no you don't…" The blonde growled as he immediately rushed after. He was going to kill him. Tear him to pieces and finally hear that arrogant, manipulative jerk suffer before killing him for all of the terrible things he did to both himself and all of his friends. Izaya was faster and both of them equally knew their way around the city, Shizuo from experience and Izaya from his reliable research, but experience won out. Izaya, to the angered man's knowledge, hadn't personally been in this specific area before, which worked out well for him. While the flea knew of the streets and the way they were aligned, some insane impairment probably working in his, Shizuo admitted, brilliant mind to give him the ability to trace the city so easily, he didn't know about certain chinks in the environment, such as a stack of large metal crates that had fallen out of a truck near an alley and hadn't been retrieved for years. Rounding a corner to avoid a dead end, Izaya's sharp reflexes alerted him of these boxes in time enough to jump over them, but just barely not quick enough to miss all of them. The quick male tripped, falling forward and landing hard enough on his back on the dusty, dark pavement to sweep the air out of his lungs.

This was perfect for Shizuo who was right at the smaller man's tail, knowing of the boxes and being able to lunge over them in just a few footsteps, grinning in enraged victory as he saw Izaya just hit the ground. As the information broker quickly attempted to scramble back to his feet the blonde jumped down, landing directly on the brunette and closing a tight fist around his neck, pinning him down so that he wouldn't be able to rush away again. He'd finally done it. Izaya was here, struggling both for air and freedom, his life in Shizuo's hands. He could finally get payback, he had finally won. With a devious smirk and wide eyes filled with an extreme amount of terrifying and sadistic ideas the blonde raised the hand that had Izaya's neck in a tight grip, lifting the lighter man and slamming him against the wall of the alley. The noise that the flea made, the cough of slight pain and surprise, was one he wanted to hear again and again until his ears bled from it. Finally. Finally! "Who's weaker now, Izaya-kun?!" He laughed dominantly as he slammed his fist into the info broker's gut. Izaya choked for breath, kicking out in a flailing attempt to jab Shizuo but hardly putting enough force into it to make a difference against the larger, nearly invincible man's body. Another punch came, the shock still evident in the brunette's eyes. His plan never failed, no one had ever caught him, he was always right. But this time his plan had gone down the drain and the man he had pissed off the most had him right here in his grasps. Another cough rang out through the street as another punch slammed forward, then another, a rain of gasping and small cries of pain that Shizuo realized he was quickly growing addicted to hearing. "How does it feel, Izaya-kun? Does it hurt, Izaya-kun? Tell me!" he laughed as he finally grew slightly bored of creating the same motion each time and threw his opponent back to the ground. Izaya skidded along the street, groaning slightly as he had taken multiple hits from a man that could easily lift a vending machine and had no small amount of strength rushing through his bones and veins. He attempted to stand but quickly collapsed to his knees, hugging his stomach and coughing up blood, a liquid he hadn't seen from his own body in years. This amused him; the game was still fun, even if he lost for a split second he would come back and succeed later, he always did. But Shizuo had different plans. Storming to the man and digging his fingers into a nest of soft, black hair he slammed Izaya's head to the ground and stepped on it, grinding his foot into the man's cheek to stimulate how it felt to be dragged along the road after getting hit by a truck, an experience that had happened to him twice now by the info-broker's plan. "S.. stop..!" the brunette muttered, his voice tinged with a tone that Shizuo hadn't heard before, something along the lines of pleading. He felt an overwhelming amount of power rise through him, his strength gaining to something that was beyond his previous power as he pulled his shoe back and kneeled down, gripping Izaya by the hair again and smirking at the finally frowning face of his enemy. Izaya had deep cuts and what seemed like a bright red burn along his right cheek where the road had torn at his skin, the same cheek already bruising from where Shizuo had accidentally missed with one of his punches. "Stop? But aren't we having so much fun?" he sneered, repeating something that the former male had said before to the latter. "I won't stop until you're dead and have suffered enough to make up for all of the pain you've caused tenfold."

Izaya growled, not enjoying his chances and definitely not liking being put down like this by someone who he usually had planned every move out for. He quickly flicked his arm down and allowed his knife to slide into his palm, slashing forward at Shizuo's neck in the same motion, a jab that was intendant to kill if Shizuo hadn't been prepared and caught the male's wrist, twisting it until it snapped and the black-haired man yelled out in pain, dropping the weapon. The blonde caught it, pushing Izaya up against the wall again and quickly slashing the blade into his chest, then his left cheek seeing as it was undamaged so far, then his right shoulder so that the dominant arm would hurt severely to move. He loved seeing those hateful chocolate eyes burning into him as if attempting to scald his very soul, he craved that raspy pant as Izaya attempted to channel away the pain without whimpering or showing signs that he was hurting horribly from the internal damage that had been caused by the punches, he was excited to receive more of the caught breath and the deep loathing from Izaya Orihara that was rarely shown through anything besides dark schemes. On a normal situation the information broker kept a calm face, acted polite, then went and screwed with Shizuo's life in a way that was like a jab in the heart, rarely allowing the latter to channel his hatred through physical pain, only running away from fights once he got the opportunity and keeping that smug smirk upon his cat-like face at all times. Now though the anger was obvious, his plan had failed and his calm wall had collapsed, his chest rising and falling painfully, blood running through and staining the dark grey v-neck shirt he wore. "So answer my question... Izaya-kun…" Shizuo wasn't normally a sadistic man, he didn't consider himself dark in any sense other than the violence that encased him and even that he regretted. But he couldn't stand this flea and somehow the satisfaction of finally winning took over, turning his emotions upside down. He loved the violence as it was helping him destroy the male who was glaring up at him. He loved the pain the jacketed man was in. He wanted more of it. "Does it hurt? Should I make it hurt more? I don't think you understand yet if you're still making that face at me." He then swiped Izaya's knife across his chest one more time to create something like an x-mark tear, making the shirt fall to shreds and the bleeding wounds' seeping visible. He caught the brunette flinch and grit his teeth to prevent a cry as the air stung at the tears in his skin. "Shizu-chan…"

"What? You hardly have the right to plead with me to stop, not after all of the times you've enjoyed watching others suffer. I think you should understand what you're laughing at. You do love humans, don't you? Why don't you see what one of your countless victims feels like?" He then did it again, slamming Izaya's head into the wall hard enough to slightly crack the weak, rotting material, a loud noise of pain finally reaching his awaiting ears. Shizuo punched at the male's chest and knocked the air out of him before curling his fingers around his neck and slamming him forward again. Izaya's hands lifted, his nails attempting to claw into Shizuo's wrists to threaten him to release but that pain was nothing compared to the pain he had previously sustained because of this flea. Izaya's hands were warmer than average human hands were supposed to be, indicating that he probably had a fever and was in more serious condition than he was letting on from the internal bleeding; he probably had a higher pain tolerance than Shizuo expected of him. No matter. He kept slamming, punching, taking the knife that he had retrieved from the info-broker and stabbed or slicing, his muscles releasing all of their energy into this one form as all of his rage built up and flowed out of him. It was the second time in his life he wasn't going to hold back, having no pity for this manipulative, uncaring bastard, ready to shred him limb by limb but only once he was sure that Izaya had endured all of the suffering that he could take. He dug the knife into Izaya's stomach and the male coughed, blood slipping from his lips down his chin and spraying out to scatter on Shizuo's already torn and stained vest, only provoking him to hit harder. By now Izaya's jacket had been shredded to the point where it had slipped off of his shoulders and was barely even held on him anymore, the bruises and blood staining the pale skin as if it were some kind of abstract painting. "S… stop…" He was quieter, his voice less heightened with the energy and mischievousness it usually had but replaced with something that sounded almost unlike him, quieter, almost as if he were tired. But even if he wanted to Shizuo couldn't stop now, his hands were moving on their own, over and over, his mind only partially focused on the figure before him and mostly concentrated on the memories, the countless memories, of this scummy dog ruining his and many other's lives over and over just for the hell of it. Each cry of pain was enough to drive him forward more, each cough and each yelp addicting to his vengeful ears.

"Shizu-chan…" Izaya finally muttered before his hands slipped from their places around Shizuo's wrist and his head fell forward, unable to be supported by his weakened neck anymore. Whether lack of air or too much pain or the internal damage had finally taken over, he had fallen unconscious. It took a few more hits for Shizuo to even realize this, his fist halting in midair as his eyes widened at the broken figure before him. Izaya's shirt and jacket were practically not there with how many tears were in them from the road burn, the dragging of the wall, and the knife slashing across them, his chest and arms covered with bright blue bruises, red marks that were sure to form into such, and bloody, messy splotches, his wrist and a few ribs appearing abnormally positioned as if they were broken and both dried and fresh blood leaving a dark trail down from his pale lip to his chin. What had he done..? Quickly stepping back and only half-carefully lowering Izaya to the ground Shizuo saw that there was also a hand-shaped mark around the former's neck. No matter what he'd done before, he'd never beat someone down this badly. He would've assumed that the informant were dead if his chest wasn't rising and falling heavily and unevenly, his mouth slightly cracked open to absorb air and a small cough running from his throat as a little of his blood ran down into it. It was true that Izaya deserved this, no, he deserved to die for what he did, but… this… Shizuo felt even further like a monster than he ever had. He had enjoyed this, doing this damage, no matter to whom it was dealt. Slowly picking up Izaya's head and allowing it to rest on his leg he sighed and brushed away some raven strands from the unconscious male's face, attempting and failing to get the blood out of his hair subconsciously as he tried to get ahold on the sudden exhaustion that always took over when he finished falling from his violent streaks. "I'm not going to lie, flea, you deserved every moment of this…" he muttered, speaking with a sigh as if he were scolding a young child. A new view on Izaya was coming into his head slowly and he didn't' want it there. Sure the guy was crazy, insane and sadistic, manipulative and uncaring to anyone's feelings at all, claiming to love humans as he tore their relations and literally sent some of them to the grave for the fun of it… but there was something about him that made it seem like he were just a child playing a game. Was there ever a reason behind his schemes? Shizuo didn't know and had no intention to find out. But whether there was or not… he didn't intend to apologize.

Suddenly he heard something familiar, a horse's neigh echoing out through the now orange-tinted skies, a sigh rerunning from his lips as he glanced over to see none other than Celty skidding to a halt at the end of the alley. If she had a face she would be revealing an expression of shock, he was sure, as she was practically frozen there for a moment, seeing Izaya resting in Shizuo's lap like that, completely ruined in appearance with all of the bruises and blood, slashes and breaks. Finally she slowly lifted herself from her bike, her fingers shakily but speedily skidding across the keyboard of her phone as she approached, holding out what she had typed to the blonde as he gave her something similar to an apologetic grin. 'You went too far.' It simply stated. "I was planning to kill him, I think this is just enough," Shizuo replied carelessly, laying back and attempting to ignore the small groan of irritation that Izaya breathed out at the movement. Celty began typing again. 'We need to take him to Shinra or he might really die.' She was obviously referencing the blood that had no doubt come from his lungs that had been coughed up and the countless evidence of horribly strong punches to the male's gut. Shizuo sighed once more, nodding in weak agreement as he rose to his feet and lifted Izaya into his arms. He'd never thought he'd actually have the stability to touch the bastard, let alone help carry him to safety, but now here he was. It wasn't as bad as he had thought. Maybe it was because he had released all of his anger into those attacks and had no more regret towards the male. Maybe he was overthinking it. It didn't matter. 'Are you coming?' Celty typed and he grunted a 'yeah,' not taking his eyes off of the strained expression on Izaya's paled, damaged face. It made him almost feel bad for the brunette knowing that honestly no one really cared if he lived or died. Everyone hated him and the people that would help him, Celty and Shinra, Shizuo himself… they were only doing it out of the goodness of their hearts. He wondered if Izaya ever considered that, if he did what Shizuo did multiple times and delt pain to recover and distract himself from his own. "You're still an idiot…" he growled quietly before beginning to walk towards Shinra's, not being too far away and not being able to put the both of them on Celty's bike. She began typing once more, seeing this. 'Do you want me to take him there for you?' She obviously considered not just that Izaya needed treatment immediately but that Shizuo probably couldn't stand the guy and if he just so happened to wake up and make a sarcastic comment he really might just die. But the blonde shook his head. "I've got it. No worries. Tell Shinra we're on our way." As Celty shrugged and drove off past him he glanced down for the last time. "I finally win… You know, I thought it'd feel a little less guilty than this. Once you can stand again leave this town and never come back." Despite talking to a form that couldn't hear a word he was saying he got the feeling that Izaya was listening somehow, the peaceful yet pained expression he held possibly being another one of his deceiving fronts. "But until then… just don't die, got it?"