formality (n.) the rigid observance of convention or etiquette.


The slight widening of the doctor's eyes gave away his thoughts instantly. The bodyguard knew what he said was a little weird to the doctor's ears but he knew that unless he said something along those lines, no one that was remotely trustworthy would make an appropriate choice in this situation. After all, everyone who was in the loop in Ikebukuro knew that Izaya Orihara the infamous informant had more enemies than anyone else in this city.

"I see," The doctor cleared his throat as if he were trying to force the awkwardness of the situation away with a horrid noise. "In that case, your consent for police involvement will be needed. Please do as you see fit. The receptionists will handle matters regarding the authority's involvement."

With those last few words, the doctor left silently. Watching the doctor leave, Shizuo let out a small sigh. Exactly what kind of mess had he just gotten himself into? It was too late to take back what he had said to the doctor though. If he did, there'd be no way he'd be let back into the hospital to visit the damn flea even if he wanted to. Looking down at the hand that was still holding Izaya's, he closed his eyes. The informant, for the first time in a long time, looked like he could do no harm.


If there was one thing that Izaya would always laugh at, it was proclamations of love. In this day and age, he saw this once raw emotion as something that was taken much too lightly. The constant throwing around of this word made his skin crawl. This way of thinking stopped him from getting too deep into any form of romantic relationships.

"I'm his lover."

His way of thinking seemed to have been pushed to the back of his mind the moment he heard those few words uttered above him through the darkness. He could suddenly feel the warmth spreading through his unresponsive hand. This warmth caused something strange to stir within him, a feeling that he hadn't experienced in a long time. Even then, it was impossible, right?

The source of those words was what caused him to ignore the sudden conflicted thoughts he had. It was the gruff voice of someone who usually wore a frown. The gruff voice that was normally filled with anger was now laced in a tone of poorly hidden sadness. His ridiculously strong rival holding an emotion other than one of aggression was something that confused him more than anything else.


Dealing with the people that provided more paperwork than he cared to deal with always managed to cause Shizuo to suddenly feel the urge to smoke. He'd been standing at the receptionist's desk for the past few minutes, staring at the woman who ignored his presence. His patience was running thin as she typed away on her computer.

"Ahem." For the umpteenth time, the bodyguard cleared his throat in an attempt to catch the woman's attention yet again.

"Hello, sir." Shizuo could've sworn the woman dared to sigh after she'd made him wait for longer than he had the patience for. "How may I help you today?"

"Izaya Orihara," He gestured toward the room down the hall with his thumb. "I'm giving permission as his lover to have the police work out what the hell happened to him."

Those words left a strange taste in his mouth. They were things that he never thought he'd say about anyone, especially not that flea. The look he was getting from the receptionist seemed to reflect his swirl of emotions too.

The woman was silent as she stared at him. Pulling out a stack of papers from one of her desk drawers, she shoved them into the blonde's hands. Throwing a pen on top of the pile, she pointed at certain sections on the front page. "Fill these in. Bring them all – including the pen – back when you're done."


With the paper work filled out, Shizuo refused to go back into the room. The only thing he could hear in there was the sound of machine supported breathing and the quiet plop every few seconds from the IV drip. Even if there was a person that he knew laying as still as a statue within the confines of his bed, if that person didn't respond, just what was the point in staying there and hanging onto false hope?

Shaking his head, he stood out on the street facing the window where Izaya lay unconscious. Until the police came to find out what happened to the informant, he'd have to go around and find things out for himself. Fiddling with the phone in his hand, he left an email for the doctor that he usually turned to.

Shizuo [12:04]: 'I signed all the papers for the police to investigate this bullshit. Don't bother asking me how I managed to do it without being his family.'

Shizuo [12:07]: 'Since the police are pretty much as useful as high school kids in this case, I'm going to look into things myself. Send me any info you got on exactly where the flea was found. I'll do the same with whatever I find.'

With everything he needed to say sent, he pushed his hands into the depths of his pockets and walked away. "What the hell happened to you, you damn idiot?"


a sudden author's note / nothing special to report for the rewrite of this chapter; answering reviews from the previous chapter, Worry, instead ~

dinonina – not too sure if that's a good thing or bad thing ahaha. I hope you like the future chapters though !

Akatsuki Fatale – I have to agree with you on that one ~ The angst from worried!Shizuo and hurt!Izaya can almost be smelled in the air.