Orihara Izaya strutted down an alley, his mind elsewhere from his literal location. He had just successfully given Shizuo the slip, and was listening closely for sounds that hinted Shizuo was nearby—for instance, the sound of a vending machine being smashed into bits by a careening telephone pole—and still angry.

Once he was satisfied with the lack of a metal-on-metal soundtrack, he slowed to a halt. He was bothered by how different Shizuo seemed to be acting, today. Normally, he would rage after Izaya for at least a few minutes, hurling various sizable projectiles and crashing about, but Shizuo had barely pursued him this time around. And his expressions were different, too, his emotions were unusual.

When Izaya had confronted him, Shizuo reacted with a look on his face that was dead and hard, a mix of unfeeling and all-feeling. Sure, he had launched a trash can in Izaya's general direction, but he had sorely missed by at least ten feet. He had exerted little effort to do so much as roar at Izaya.

It was like Shizuo didn't want to fight Izaya.

But that couldn't be true, they had maintained a consistent animosity for years. Could it all end so soon, so suddenly?

This whole time, Izaya had viewed his relationship with Shizuo almost as a game. Which meant that it would have to finish, eventually. And that there would have to be a winner.

Was Shizuo giving up? Resigning? Folding?

The idea turned Izaya's skin cold.

"No. Not yet."

But he couldn't drag it out for ever.

"S***, Shizu-chan," Izaya breathed, his teeth gritted as he leaned against a wall to support his legs which were giving way below him.

Would it be too cheesy to talk to Shizuo about it? Would that only worsen the situation, by establishing a sense of acceptance between them? God, Izaya hated how Shizuo made his typically clean and logical thoughts so jumbled up and self-conscious.

He slid down the wall and tilted his head back in frustration and confusion.

Once he collected himself, Izaya sighed and stood up, again, listening.

There was a screeching from off in the distance, but it wasn't Shizuo.

Then, there was a series of shouting and cussing just down the street. Not Shizuo.

"F***in' flea."

Izaya instinctively shrank into a shadow and his chest tightened. If that wasn't Shizuo, nothing was.

He composed himself and stepped out of the darkness. The voice had come from somewhere else, not in the alley.

Izaya followed the sound of Shizuo repeating that over and over: f***in' flea, f***in' flea, f***in' flea.

He stopped at the corner of the alley, just at the edge of the wall, straining to hear.

"Goddamn it, I hate that f***ing flea. Every f***ing thing about him. Goddamn it!"

Izaya smirked. Shizuo sounded as though he were just around the intersection, cussing away like no one was listening.

In fact, the voice was so clear and pronounced, Izaya could swear Shizuo was only just out of sight, probably inches away.

The two of them stood, separated by a barrier of concrete, perpendicular.

Izaya could smell Shizuo's cologne. He closed his eyes to relish in it.

"I hate you, Izaya."

Shizuo's voice pierced Izaya, and Izaya opened his eyes, only to see Shizuo standing right in front of him.

"I hate you. I hate how messed up you make me feel. I hate how messed up you make everything seem. I hate you, I hate your morals, I hate your sense of being. I hate that I obsess over you. I hate that I sometimes live for you. I hate that. I hate everything you do and affect. I HATE YOU."

Izaya blinked.

Shizuo scowled. His tone was venomous, but it was also brittle, like he was about to break at any moment. His tongue was carrying a fragility that threatened to shatter into a million pieces if any further pressure was applied. His face was twisted in sour opposition but also pain and angst.

Izaya shut his eyes tightly and rubbed them, not sure if he was imagining this or not.

When he opened his eyes, Shizuo was gone.

"F***in' flea…" Shizuo's insult died out, growing softer and softer.

Izaya waited for the last syllable to fade away before gripping his chest and falling to his knees, trying desperately to calm his fleeting heartbeat.

He let out a ragged breath and bit his lip, his whole body tense.

"So he does still hate me after all."

But did he still want to fight with him? And if he didn't know any better, it sounded like Shizuo had just confessed to him. 'Obsess over you'? 'Live for you'? What was that all about? And why did it so strongly remind Izaya of how he felt about Shizuo?

Izaya covered his face with his hands and found that he was crying.

"Why? I have no reason to cry. I'm just making anxious assumptions… and drawing desperate conclusions."

Nevertheless how he tried to comfort himself, to toughen up, the tears didn't stop. Shizuo was slowly tearing Izaya apart and didn't even know. He was like a poison that was gradually withering away at Izaya. Or like alcohol that was languidly intoxicating him.

What the Hell? He didn't even like alcohol.

But he loved Shizuo.

"Stupid blonde."