Another chapter, yay! Anyway, this one is about Shizuo.

Sorry it's a bit late. I've been procrastinating, a lot.

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters, they all belong to their respectful owners.

…

A monster with inhuman strength
feared by all, avoided by all
unloved by all

He walks the earth, a lonely monster
indeed

Smoke spiralled into the clouded night, it was mesmerising the way it danced towards the sky. The patterns held a calm sensation as he watched. His eyes followed the trials until they reached higher and disappeared into thin air.

He didn't know why, but as he looked at the cigarette smoke form patterns, a wave of serene feelings washed over his body, and he felt like his thoughts finally had clear meaning. But right now he had no thoughts as he gazed upon those spirals of white clouds disappear into the night sky.

"Hey, you can go home now," a dreadlocked man walked towards him presenting a smile.

"Ah, thanks Tom." He gave a nod and snuffed out his cigarette. "See ya," he gave a wave and slipped both hands into his pockets, heading out into the crowded streets.

It's been calm for the past few days, not as many outbursts have occurred and that was normal for him. He smiled a little at the thought; it's been a long while since he's felt that way. A long time since he felt control over his temper and that he didn't need to worry so much.

Unlocking his apartment, he slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. The apartment wasn't big, but it was clean and had a bedroom, a kitchen, living room, laundry, bathroom, and everything he ever needed. It was a normal apartment that was cheap and just fit for him.

He collapsed onto the couch exhausted from a long day's work. His head hung back and stared up at the white ceiling lazily. Slowly, he allowed his eye lids to close, a wave of deep sleep engulf him and he accepted it, his consciousness falling into darkness.

…..

Morning light filtered through the sliver of open curtain and fell across his face. groaning, he sat up straight, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He showered and dressed in his usual clothing, made breakfast and then left. It was merely routine he followed to keep his life peaceful and to hold a somewhat normal life.

He met up with his boss Tom, they go way back to middle school and he offered him a job when he was feeling a little down.

"Hey Tom," he announced upon arrival.

"Morning," Tom greet with his usual smile and wave. They began to walk together going straight to work. "So this first one shouldn't be too bad. But he's a drug dealer who owes us a lot of debt so don't be too surprised by what he looks like."

"Gotcha."

With a nod, they both went on their way.

The trek wasn't long, just a few blocks from where they met. But when they arrived, the apartment building the client lived in seemed total deserted, it was strange to find out that people actually lived here. but the people living here were most likely those who would like to lay low, can't find a proper job, or had supposedly 'disappeared.'

"There planning on tearing the building down in a few months since it's kind of inhabitable for people." Tom clarified.

They then headed up the rusted steel staircase that didn't look like it could support a child let alone two fully grown adults. It was scary that people actually live in something like this; wouldn't they be afraid that the building could collapse at any second? His thoughts were brought back to his own apartment and was grateful that he had something like that instead of this.

Tom scanned the name plaques, trying to find the right one—

Found it.

The door looked like it was just barely hanging on its hinges, the front of it was completely covered in grim and had the awful smelt of wood decay. Turning his attention away from the rotting door, he pulled out a cigarette and lit the end while Tom dealt with formalities, as in knocking on the door loudly to get their guy out here.

As his thoughts wondered elsewhere as the door opened and there stood a man with dirty clothing, messy hair and smelt even worse than the door. The stench alerted him enough to snap out of it and focus once more.

"We're here for the cash you owe us," Tom began, trying not to focus too much on the client's appearance or the smelt. This was most likely the case of him taking his own drugs. The guy at first needed loans to pay for rent, but then he stumbled upon a gang and they needed him to keep quiet, so they offered him a job of drug dealing and in return he keep quiet about their whereabouts and what they do and that he pay them the money he earned. But one day, he took some of the drugs he was offered to sell and due to this; he took those drugs for himself, losing his mind to a fantasy of what he deemed his supposed normal life, each time when the gang asked about it, he'd say that he sold the drugs but the money never presented itself so more debt was added to his list. To put simply, he's been stealing all of the drugs and taking them for himself, dragging himself deeper into debts that he has no chance of paying.

"What cash?" the man before them groaned. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks; his body looked heavily mal-nourished and pale with dark circles under his eyes.

"The money, remember? You took out several loans that were due to be paid three month ago." Tom explained.

Recognition washed over the clients eyes, "oh yeah, sorry, but I don't have the money, but I'll get the money, I need time but not right now. I really need you guys to go though. I'm busy and I don't have time for this."

Thus came the excuses.

"My mother is sick and she needs medicine. I need the cash to pay for the medicine."

An obvious lie they both agreed without even sharing a glance at the other. The lie was obvious and held no backbone.

Tom made sure to do a background check on this guy least he pull something like this. His mother was just fine but was extremely worried since her son hadn't contacted her in months. It was beginning to scare her that her son had dropped off the face of the earth.

"Look man, your mother isn't sick and wouldn't you think she would be proud to know her son was dealing drugs?"

"But my mother, she's really sick and needs the money to buy medicine to help her get better. I can't just abandon her now, not when she needs me to make the money for treatment."

This was one of the effects the clients fantasy world had created, that his poor mother had caught a deadly virus and that he needed the money to help pay for her treatments, but the money he had was fake.

But these kinds of jobs always left a sour taste in his mouth, hearing each excuse about how they couldn't get the money was bad, but bringing ones mother into it was worse.

This was beginning to piss him off.

"Listen, we didn't come here to hear some sappy story that's obviously fake." Tom sighed. "We just came here to get the money."

"I don't have the money, please leave." The client said.

"Sorry, but this is my job you know, we're not leaving until you pay the money." Tom said.

"I can't give you any money; I need it for my mother."

He gritted his teeth, finally having enough of the fantasy world lies. "You piss me off," he tossed the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out before marching up to the drug addict.

"H-hey, hold on!" Tom put his hand on his shoulder but it was shrugged off instantly.

"So you're telling me that you can't pay your debts because your mother is sick when she's perfectly fine? That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard! Don't you think your mother would be proud to know her son was a drug addict who's barely surviving?" he growled.

"Oh boy," Tom sighed and walked off, finally grateful to get off that rickety contraption.

He gripped the addict's collar, eyes seething rage. "Huh? What would she say if she saw you now huh?"

"Let me go!" the addict trembled staring into the eyes that could very well be mistaken for a monster's. "You don't know what's it's like living this way!"

That was it, he snapped. "What the hell kind of answer is that!" he turned and flung the man into a tree just outside the apartment door.

The man's body crashed into the truck and slid down, landing on the ground in an unconscious slump.

"Dammit!" he cursed and marched away, taking another cigarette from his pocket and lighting it up once again. He caught up with Tom relaying the news and they both left, seeing it was pointless to continue any further.

"Come on man, chill out a little, we can't collect anything if you keep smashing people into stuff all the time." Tom said.

"Sorry," he muttered.

In truth, he really hated violence, despite his violent nature. He hated the fact that he had super human strength and his short temper. And most importantly, he hated himself for having this kind of power. He saw himself as a monster that could only destroy, destroy until there was nothing left but to destroy himself.

And that was what scared him the most.

He was always afraid that he would lose control and hurt those around him. He was always afraid that he would destroy those around him with the slightest punch and he won't even realise it until it's too late. But that fear was natural when one had this kind of power that they couldn't control.

This was his biggest fear.

…..

He smashed open the front door of the next client's apartment, the settled dust shifted into the air as the force from the impact sent it flying. He walked straight over to the window and cracked the shutters wide open, letting in air.

"He's not here again?" Tom looked around. "That makes three times in a row he's dodged this."

He growled. This was pissing him off all over again, and just after he managed to calm down to. Why do these guys have to be so difficult?

"Come on, let's go get lunch. I'm starving!" Tom slipped both hands into his pockets and walked out.

"Yeah." He followed, closing the door as they existed.

….

The next one was around mid-afternoon where, at the time, he was slowly settling into a sort of calm state, most likely with the help of nicotine.

"Alright, this one shouldn't be too hard. He should fork over the money instantly if we play our cards right, don't you think?" Tom smiled, knocking on the door.

No answer.

He knocked again, this time louder.

That got an answer.

"Alright already, I heard ya the first time." The door swung open to reveal a middle aged man who looked like he hadn't shaved in a while, droopy eyes and a very annoyed expression played upon his face. "Whaddya want?"

"We're here to collect the debt you owe us." Tom clarified.

"Don't have it. so beat it," he was about to close the door when he noticed the man standing behind Tom, who was looking slightly annoyed already. "hey, you look like that actor guy. What's his name? Yuhei Hanajima right? Yeah, you look just like him now that I think about. I don't have the money, but maybe you can contact the guy and he could pay my debts?"

He clenched his jaw at the name.

Tom seemed to notice this as well and grew worried for the safety of his client.

But that didn't stop the client from pushing forward. "Hey, could you two be related by any chance? You know, I happen to know that guy so if anything bad happen to me, you'll be sorry."

He growled, finally losing it.

He reached behind himself, gripping the guard railing and ripping it from the ground, holding it high above his head. Tom backed away, giving them space as to not get caught in cross fire.

The client before him trembled, face turning pal as he watched the insanely strong man before him tear something that was bolted into the ground then lift so easily above his head.

In the next instant, the client was sent flying followed by a loud boom and dust spreading.

He panted and glared. He hated it when people talked about his brother, especially when they used his name in such a way, it to piss him off.

"Alright, let's go before something else decides to show up." Tom walked past him, hearing logic he followed.

It's not like he means to get angry all the time, it's just that when he does get angry, he loses all control and his body flies on auto-pilot. But after the deed is done, he always feels this emptiness that leaves a guilty taste in his mouth. He didn't like the way he snapped and destroyed everything in his path. It was unnatural; his monster strength is still a mystery to others as well as himself. He didn't know where this power came from, but ever since its discovery, he wanted nothing more than to be rid of it. to live a normal human life, to interact like a normal human would, to love as a normal human can and be loved back.

But he knows he'll never have that chance. Others fear him; they avoid him and try to not get involved. Who could blame them though? He was a monster and even the people who know him still fear him from time to time. But that still doesn't change the fact that they fear him. But the one who fears him most—

—is himself.

His name is Shizuo Heiwajima, and he is a most unlovable monster, indeed.

….

Finally finished. Sorry about the wait and stuff, I've had no motivation to write and this one gave me huge writers block because I'm trying to think of how Ryougo Narita wrote it in his novels but also trying to explain what Shizuo does during his days of work.

But this story ain't over yet.

Anyway, leave a review of what you think and all that other stuff.

Until next chapter.