Chapter 3

Izaya watched as Shizuo flipped a pancake with expert ease.

"I'm not a slut, Shizu-chan," Izaya complained, noting the slight frown on Shizuo's face. "I bet whatever number you're thinking is way too high to even be possible. There aren't that many gay men in Tokyo, you know."

"Like I said, I don't. fucking. care. Can't we just eat breakfast in goddamn peace and quiet for once?"

"It was just a question, Shizu-chan," Izaya said, the words coming out a lot more serious than he had intended them to. He tried smiling again. "I'll tell you how many guys I think you've slept with~"

"Izaya..." Shizuo growled, turning to face him.

"In fact, I don't think, I know." Izaya laughed, jumping up to sit on one of the kitchen counters. "I'm the only one, right?" he said.

Shizuo stopped glaring, instead looking at him strangely. "Yeah," he said, turning back around to put the pancake on a plate. "You're the only one."

I knew it! Izaya wanted to say, but for some reason, he couldn't. He stared at those reddening ears, those hands that accidentally burned themselves on the pan, knocking into everything with a sudden clumsiness. Somehow, he couldn't find the words.

"C'mon," Shizuo said, carrying two plates piled high with delicious-smelling pancakes. "Get off the counter if you want breakfast, Izaya."

Izaya opened his mouth. "You're the only one too," he said.

Shizuo's golden-brown eyes looked at him. "What?"

"For now," he added, wondering why he was still talking. "For now, you're the only one for me too."

Shizuo stared. Then, quietly, he put the pancakes back by the stove.

"Shizu – ?" Izaya started as he came closer, but then Shizuo's lips were on his, and Izaya leaned into the touch, inhaling, tasting, the curious mix of mint and cigarettes. Izaya wrapped his legs around Shizuo and pulled himself closer as the kiss deepened, the world slowly melting into nothing but lips, tongues, flesh, hands. Izaya gasped when Shizuo lifted him up off the counter.

"The pancakes..." Izaya breathed.

Shizuo headed towards the bedroom – he really was a stickler about doing it anywhere else in his apartment.

"We'll microwave them," he said.

Izaya laughed.


Shizuo walked the streets of Ikebukuro, the end of his cigarette slowly growing brighter with the falling shadows of sunset. He exhaled languidly, thinking of his conversation with Tom a few days ago. It still bothered him.

"WHAT?!" Shizuo had said, actually dropping his cigarette.

Tom took a step back and put his hands up. "Look, I know you guys probably want to keep it under wraps, but I'm just saying, if you need someone to talk to – "

"WE'RE NOT GOING OUT!"

Tom put his hands down, eyes wide. "Really?" he said.

"Yes really!" Shizuo yelled, trembling from the effort of trying not to punch something. "Why the fuck would you think that?! He's the flea! He's Orihara fucking Izaya! I hate him!"

"Well, you guys haven't been fighting as much recently, so when I heard, it just seemed to make sense," Tom said, shrugging.

"Tch." Shizuo lit up another cigarette to try and calm himself down, not missing the way Tom had edged a little away from him. He exhaled gray smoke, letting the nicotine run through his system. "Why the fuck would something like that ever –" he started. "Wait, who the fuck told you the flea and I were dating?"

"Varona."

"What – why would Varona – ?!"

"She heard it from Simon who overheard Kadota and them talking about it," Tom explained quickly. "Dunno where they got it from though."

"Why the fuck would they – " Shizuo started, but then he stopped, sighing. "Whatever," he growled. "It doesn't make sense. It's the complete opposite of sense. It's fucking disgusting. I'd rather kill myself than ever go out with that evil piece of shit – no, I'd rather kill him. Well, I would kill him anyway just for all the shit he's put me through, but I would kill him even more."

And that was that.

Shizuo had just brushed it off then, not wanting to talk about it anymore, but ever since, that stupid rumor seemed to be the only thing he could think about.

He blew out another cloud of smoke into the darkening night.

Shizuo had considered that maybe Izaya had been the one to start the rumor, but in this one case, he felt that he could rule out the flea's influence. If there was one thing he could be sure about when it came to the flea, it was that he hated Shizuo as much as Shizuo hated him. Why the fuck would he want people to think they actually liked each other enough to start dating?

Maybe this is that one percent the flea was talking about, Shizuo thought, smiling grimly. Still, Shizuo couldn't rule him out completely. Nothing was impossible, especially when it came to that bastard flea.

He'd certainly proven that the other day...

The door crumpled under his touch, and Shizuo saw Izaya bring his knife up to some man's throat, pressing hard enough that blood dribbled down to his shirt. The color of that man's hair was the same as Shizuo's, but this was just a passing thought to the image of him. Izaya. Half-naked, jeans riding so low Shizuo could see his jutting hip bone. His lips looked wet and red, just like his nipples, and his hair was wild, just like the look in his eyes. The blond man said something, but Shizuo could only register those red lips as they moved, frowned, glistened, said his name...

"Tch." Shizuo dropped his cigarette, stamping it out angrily. Why the fuck was he still thinking about this?

He really needed to stop.

But Shizuo couldn't deny that he had been thinking about the pest more often than not lately. Why was that? Shizuo scowled. It was the flea's fault. Everything was always the flea's fault. Why the fuck did he have to be there? Didn't Shizuo tell him to stay the hell out of Ikebukuro?

Shizuo sighed, taking out another cigarette. Maybe he'll stay put this time.

He took a drag.

Somehow, the thought didn't comfort him.


"Tanaka Rei is one of Kazuhiro Junichi's men," Izaya started as he settled himself into the backseat of Shiki's car. "He had been moving independently for some time, but Kazuhiro-san started to suspect what he was doing several months ago. So he put a tail on Tanaka-san; not a very good one, though: he let Tanaka-san slip right out from under his nose, right after he stole a considerable amount of D2 that Tanaka-san is now distributing for his own advantage. Kazuhiro-san is, of course, searching quite desperately for the man, all the while managing to keep the whole thing quiet from the higher ups in Awakusu-kai. As you now know."

"Do have an idea of where this Tanaka-san might be?" Shiki said, staring calmly at his fingers.

Izaya looked out the window, watching as people after people blurred by. "He moves base every few weeks, but right now, he's working from an Internet cafe in East Ikebukuro called 'Van.' He just checked in two days ago, so he shouldn't be leaving anytime soon."

Shiki uncrossed his fingers. "Thank you, Orihara-san. Thorough, as always."

Izaya looked away from the window to Shiki, smiling as he held out his hand. "I appreciate the compliment, Shiki-san. But I don't work for pretty words."

"You say that, but you don't really do it for the money either, do you?" Shiki said, handing over the brown envelope anyway.

Izaya opened it, counting the cash. "They say it's money that makes the world go round, Shiki-san," he replied. Once he'd confirmed the amount, he tucked it into his back pocket. "Do you ever wonder why that is?"

Shiki smiled his amused smile, a scar that fit too well on his humorless face. "Because it's true?"

Izaya smiled as well. "You're half-right," he said. He looked out the window again. "They say it because people want to think it's true. The world that humans live in is weaved together by threads that always get tangled up into ugly knots that no one ever wants to look at, nevertheless acknowledge. So they make it simple, they make up their own versions of the world that have clear-cut facts like 'life's not fair' and 'money makes the world go round.' Whether those 'facts' are actually true or not is irrelevant. What matters is whether or not they are willing to swallow it. If they are, then 'facts' become truths, and any evidence to the contrary is automatically put to the side, making life a simpler and easier place to live in."

Shiki's voice was quiet. "Are you saying I'm simple, Orihara-san?"

"No," Izaya replied. "I'm saying you're human."

Shiki remained silent for the space of a red light. "By the way," he said as the car started to move again. "I heard an interesting rumor the other day."

Izaya looked at him. "Oh?" he said. "Do tell. You know how much I love rumors, Shiki-san."

Shiki stared back at Izaya, his gaze level and unreadable. "Apparently, you and Heiwajima-san are fucking each other."

Izaya stared at him for a second, taking it in. Then he burst out laughing.

"...It's not true then."

Izaya wiped his eyes, holding his ribs like they would spontaneously burst out of his body. "N-no," he gasped. "Of course not." He held back another wave of laughter and then coughed, smiling.

"I would never let a monster like Shizu-chan anywhere near my ass, and the feeling's mutual. Just the thought of it..." Izaya let out a small laugh, unable to help himself. "But why would Shiki-san involve himself in something so trivial as my sex life?" He sharpened his smile. "Jealous?"

"I was a big part of it back then," Shiki replied, unfazed. "Naturally, I'd be curious."

Izaya managed to keep his smile. "Well," he said. "I might be adventurous, but bestiality is just taking it a step too far."

Shiki chuckled, a dry cough of a laugh. "Fucking around with the yakuza is more than just 'adventurous', Orihara-san."

"I wasn't 'fucking around with the yakuza'," he said, almost pleasantly. "I was only sleeping with you."

"And I'm not yakuza?"

"I never said you weren't; I was only debating your word choices. Anyway, I seem to remember us agreeing that our little time together never happened?"

Shiki smiled. "You brought it up first. Izaya."

He dropped his smile. "It was only because you suggested something like so utterly disgusting, Shiki-san. Seriously, Shizu-chan? I would sooner fuck my hand for the rest of my life than do anything with that thing."

"Is that what you're doing nowadays? Pumping your own dick and playing with your own ass because you can't close your mouth long enough to get anyone to actually look at you?"

Izaya felt his eye twitch, but he kept his tone light. "I didn't say that. Either way, what I do with my dick and my ass is none of your business, Shiki-san."

"But you'd tell me if I made it my business?"

Taken aback, Izaya stared at Shiki. He looked old, suddenly. Still powerful, of course, in the way dead kings were. He was a ghost that could whisper words to faceless people, nameless people who sliced open throats in the night. But he was still lined, gray, tired of the world in the way Izaya wasn't and didn't want to be. He couldn't excite Izaya in the way he used to, when Izaya saw him and saw raw energy, a life that throbbed against his fingertips.

In an unbearably aching moment, Izaya felt longing wash over him. A longing for sex that reminded him of why he needed to breathe, that there was life pumping through his veins. He wanted to touch something golden, young, and viciously raw. He wanted to close his eyes and know that in the darkness, he would not die.

"No," said Izaya. "I didn't say that either."

Right then, the car rolled to a stop in front of Izaya's apartment complex. Too purposeful to be coincidental. "I see," said Shiki, staring back at Izaya with a look that he had not seen in half a decade. "Then that will be all, Orihara-san. Thank you again for all your hard work."

"It was no problem at all, Shiki-san."

Izaya got out of the car, watching as it drove away, the money in his back pocket as warm as an old man's hand.