"You can do it, Shizuo!"
He heard his mom call out from behind him, but he was too concentrated on balancing himself on the bicycle. This was his tenth attempt, and if he was any normal, he'd have bruises painted all over his skin by now. There was sweat dripping down his forehead to his cheek; Shizuo paid no attention to it and gave the bicycle a pedal, only to wobble left and right, causing him to be stricken with fear of falling yet again, so he tightened his grip on the handles a bit— or a bit too much, he could say, since one of them fell off and rolled on the ground.
"No no no no, don't eat that!"
What was his mom talking about? Couldn't she see that he wasn't eating anything? How could he even swallow his saliva when he was falling side first. Groaning when he hit the ground, he brought a hand up to rub at his head, finally looking up to see that his mom wasn't anywhere near him but instead with a boy.
The boy seemed to be around his age, his hair was black and he held the handle that Shizuo broke off of the bicycle in his hand, tongue darting out halfway as though he was about to lick it.
"Big locori?" the boy asked.
"The candy," Shizuo replied as he dusted sand off of his clothes once he saw the puzzled expression his mother wore towards the other boy's question.
"Ah, you mean licorice? Well, I guess it kind of looks like a big licorice. But it's not, so don't eat it, okay?"
The other boy nodded, and thankfully, he let Shizuo's mother took the handle away from his hand without resistance. Shizuo could see that his attention was on something else now, though. First that crimson gaze fell on Shizuo, maintaining eye-contact without any words interchanged for moments before it moved to the bicycle that was lying on the ground pitifully.
"Do you want to try riding it? Shizuo, can you let him have a go?"
Shizuo blinked. Why'd his mother even let this boy try? He was smaller than Shizuo, and although he seemed to be curious of every little thing he saw, Shizuo was almost sure that the boy knew nothing about riding a bike.
Nevertheless, he agreed, anyway.
"Okay."
The boy smiled at him, and Shizuo helped him up onto the seat, his hands supporting the boy's small waist while he pushed him up, only letting go when he was sure that the boy had swung his left leg to the left side of the bike. Shizuo's mother was holding the bicycle from falling. When the boy gave a nod as a sign that he was ready, he was taught the ways to ride a bicycle, how to pedal and balance the handles in a straight line so he wouldn't do unnecessary turns to left and right that could make him fall.
He was more fragile, even in Shizuo's eyes, so he was given more care.
Shizuo was ready to catch the boy if he was to fall.
He didn't.
The boy didn't fall.
Shizuo was jealous.
"Mine, my bike," subconsciously, he blurted it out for both his mother and the boy to hear. Shizuo was surprised with his own self for saying such selfish thing, and he was sure he'd get an earful from his mother later, but the boy didn't even seem fazed by it.
"Yours."
"No, mine."
He was expecting a 'Mine' as well, not 'Yours'. It made him look stupid for saying mine once again, like a spoiled brat.
"Yes," the boy replied.
"Okay."
"Mine."
At this point, Shizuo was sure that the boy was messing with him.
"No!" Shizuo shouted in frustration, stomping his foot on the ground.
The boy let out a small fit of laughter, shaking his head before saying these next words that made Shizuo feel like taking the broken handle from his mother's hand and chucking it at this annoying boy's head, full force.
"Dumb Shizuo."
"Don't call me that."
"That's not nice. Be good to each other, now," his mother warned them while she busied herself with trying to fix the handle so it'd stick on the bicycle once again.
"Okay."
"What's your name, annoying brat?" Shizuo crinkled his nose, sticking his tongue out at the boy in a childish manner, only to receive a grin in return.
"Izaya."