Exit
The click of the door behind him constricted his breathing, confining him in his own mind while panic rose in the back of his throat – until he spotted the open window.
"Are you all right?" The voice distracted him – only one door, three windows, one open, third floor of the building – and he diverted his gaze from the exit.
"Never been better," he replied, though the cold sweat on his back told him otherwise.
"Have a seat," the man invited him, gathering the scattered papers on the desk calmly before eying the man sitting across from him. He felt himself swallow under that scrutinising gaze, the knuckles of his hands turning white while they gripped the arm rests of the chair that seemed to swallow him whole.
Body language could tell someone a whole lot more than when they were willing to open their mouth. Izaya knew all about that, forced himself to calm down, focussing on the man in front of him and what he wanted. He didn't dance around the subject. "You've increased your security, Shiki-san." He didn't have to ask why – he knew this. Simply stating the fact let his client know he knew this.
"We deemed it necessary, Orihara-san," the man simply replied, remaining unmoving from his seat. There had been a time when a simple stare wouldn't have fazed Orihara Izaya. Now, it unnerved him.
For a moment, he counted the amount of indents in the desk. One. Two. Three. Four – that was a large one, would that count as two? – five. Six. Seven. He looked up. "Was it?"
A manila envelope was pushed in his direction. Izaya didn't touch it. "We do our best to ensure the safety of our employees," Shiki said. The light above the desk flickered; Izaya blinked. Neither the desk, nor the man, had disappeared from their spots when the darkness dissipated.
"Is everything in it?" he chose to ask, eying the envelope.
"Everything you need," Shiki replied.
When he stood up, the chair scraped over the floor. His eyes flashed over to the window – there were emergency stairs under the middle one, though it wasn't open. If he was willing to take the risk, he could – his eyes flashed back and he took the envelope.
"I hope we'll do business again soon," Shiki said, shaking his hand – accidentally brushing against the perfect circle of bruises around his wrist.
Izaya just nodded.
Once he stepped outside, the cold night air hitting his face, the panic that had subsided in the pit of his stomach disappeared. This dark outside… didn't scare him. Not as much as when the lights went off inside, and fear grabbed you around the ankles, pulling you in some dark place no one would dare to look.
The park was empty when he reached it, and he sat down on one of the stone benches, watching the fountain for a while. He opened the envelope and stared at the pictures inside of them. He filled his lungs with air—bursting through the surface—and the fountain spray turned itself on when he walked past.
A phone was retrieved from his pocket. "I was wondering if you could do me a favour, Kishitani-san?"
The envelope ended up in ashes, when light wrapped its arms around the dark. No one had to know what had been on those pictures, except him. Just before, he had received a text message. You know what I want in exchange, Izaya-kun.
He did. And he resented himself for it.
— extra —
So now I'm telling you the reason I'm all messed up
Just have to look me in the eyes and I fall apart
Snow Patrol – In My Arms
