Oi, oi! I am sorry I disappeared for a week. Work is duuuuuumb, and that is all I have to say about that...Epilogue time! Yayz! Thank you to everyone who read this far. All of your kind words have pumped me up, hooah? ^^ Really appreciate it, and I'm glad this once upon a time, drunken whim has turned into something people actually like~. :D Thanks, guys. PS: Did anyone figure out what the secret was to turn Izaya back into a human? Was it TOOOO damn obvious? ^-^

It was dark. When the investigator shined the light in his face, it was still dark. They took his cigarettes; Shizuo didn't really care. They kept him up for hours on end, only offering bitter coffee and microwaved noodles for sustenance, and the tall, blonde man had the stomach for neither. After the police took him to the hospital to get his shoulder sewed up, Shizuo was immediately put under arrest for manslaughter and one count of attempted murder. He didn't resist, he didn't even protest. He sat there, mutely, while the investigating team hounded him night and day with questions.

"What's the deal with this guy?" The chief of police thew a folder down on the lead investigator's lap. "I read his file. He's supposed to have a temper worse than the devil himself, but look at him!" Both men looked through the two way mirror and the dejected figure before them. Shizuo was slumped down in the tiny, metallic, fold-out chair, his head in his hands. "He's the quietest, most tranquil person I've ever seen! It's like he's drugged or something!"

"Yeah, he declined his right to a phone call, to boot. It's like he really doesn't care what happens to him at all. Kinda sad, if you ask me..."

"Mmm." The chief nodded his head in agreement.

"...Hey, Chief."

"What?"

"I don't think he's a killer. I don't know what happened, but I have a feeling he's innocent."

"Well, not much to do if he's unwilling to talk. We'll just have to wait for forensics to finish crime reconstruction. They're a little confused, themselves. Know what the report said? Said there was fox's blood all over the coat that guy who got shot was wrapped up in."

"No shit? That's fucking weird..." The cop looked at Shizuo again. "None of this makes much sense. That guy we found on the other side of the street had his prints on the gun."

"And there was no hole in that coat, so the other got shot before someone put it on him."

"So, Chief, really, this guy here," he pointed through the mirror, "was protecting the guy in the coat. Don't you think? If that's true, maybe Heiwajima is just depressed."

"We're not at liberty to inform him of anything outside of his charges. Could change his story," the chief mumbled. "Either way, it'll straighten itself out."

The investigator cleared his throat, and stood. He walked over to the small coffee pot and after pouring two cups, turned to face the chief. "I'm going to try one more time."

"Go ahead. I'll watch from here."

The investigator nodded, and entered the small, holding room. "Mr. Heiwajima, would you like a cup of coffee?" Receiving no response, the cop set the Styrofoam cup down next to the still silent man. "Look, I'm going to be honest with you, okay? I don't think you're the serial killer. Am I right?" There was still no reply. The investigator sighed. "We could really use your help on this, Mr. Heiwajima. The sooner you clear the air, the sooner you can go home. Tell me, you were just trying to protect that guy, weren't you? The one who got shot? Or maybe he was trying to protect you?" The investigator felt a small triumph when Shizuo's shoulders flinched. "In any case, can you at least tell us his name? You had another wallet in your pocket, one that belonged to an Izaya Orihara, but we can't find any information, photos, or anything for a positive ID match." Silence. "Look here, if no one comes forward to clear your name and you won't speak, you're going to wind up in a world of trouble, believe me!"

"I don't care what happens to me," Shizuo's voice was gruff and scratchy from not talking for days. "Just do what you want."

"I want to set you free," the investigator replied. "But you seem content to waste away here." Shizuo just shrugged. "Look, you don't have to feel guilty. If what happened was self defense, or defense of another, there's no reason to beat yourself up like this."

"I'm not sorry," Shizuo shook his head slightly. "I'm through being sorry."

"Well then, what's the problem? Why don't you want to get out of here?"

Shizuo lifted his head and looked through the inspector rather than at him. "Because there's no one waiting for me."

"How can you be so sure?"

"If there was, I'd be out."

"Well that's hardly fair. I mean, you haven't called anyone. Maybe they just don't know you're in here." Shizuo was once again quiet, and the inspector got up, shaking his head. "I think you're being foolish."

"I don't care what you think." The inspector nodded at him, and left him alone in the room once again. Shizuo looked at the cup of now cold coffee, and twisted it slowly back and forth on the table. He found himself once again trying to imagine the face obscured that night by his coat and snow. No image came to him, but the page of Izaya in his mind certainly wasn't blank. He did not know what he looked like, and he doubted he was still alive, but when Shizuo thought of the only one he truly considered to be his friend, he was filled with with a peaceful calm unlike any he'd ever experienced before in his life. Like a deep breath of fresh air, when he thought about the fox, the world seemed new and exciting again, overflowing with possibilities. There were no boxes, no social confines. When Izaya was with him, he always felt that anything could happen. In the end, Izaya had been right. It all really had been a lot of fun. But just the same, it was puzzling too, because really, he'd never met someone who could piss him off so easily. Yet, looking back on it, Shizuo was surprised he didn't recognize it before; that he was really only ever himself around Izaya, and now that he was gone, all of the light had gone with him. But Shizuo would never take back any of it. It was only because of Izaya that he could perceive how bleak the life he lived really had been. He felt the extreme pain of loss and an almost overwhelming sense of loneliness, but he was no longer blind to his own foolish ideas and standards; the ones he had previously let the world impress upon him. Shizuo would always be grateful to Izaya for that...What a flea bag...

"What's he smiling about?" the chief asked the inspector once he reentered the room.

"Hell if I know."

"Inspector Ryusei, there is a call for you on line 3," a woman from the front desk paged him over the loud speakers. The inspector walked to the nearest phone and answered it.

"Inspector Ryusei here, how can I help you?"

"Good day, Inspector," a smooth and silky voice answered him. "I have a testimony to give concerning the recent shooting and killing in Shinjuku last Saturday night."

"You were there when it happened?"

"Indeed I was."

"Why haven't you come forward until now?" The inspector was already angry. No doubt someone in the office had already leaked the details of the case, and this was a prank call.

"I fail to see how that's important, but if you must know, it's a little hard to speak on the phone when one is in a medically induced coma."

"What? Who is this?"

"Well I know someone who certainly didn't graduate head of the class!" The words were much nastier than the tone. "My name is Izaya Orihara. Now, be a good little civil servant and come take my sworn statement, as I am too indisposed to come to you. And would you PLEASE, for the love of whatever deity scares you on the path of the straight and narrow, bring my cell phone from the items you've no doubt collected as evidence from Shizuo Heiwajima's apartment?"

A day later, the investigation was complete enough for Shizuo to be released from the station. The police let him use one of their showers and returned his clothes, which had been cleaned during his incarceration. The inspector returned his phone and his wallet, along with his cigarettes at the front desk. "I'm sorry your coat was beyond repair," he apologized, as Shizuo quickly put the items in his pockets. "It's still snowing."

"It's okay. I'm not cold."

"Well, guess I should prepare you. You're gonna be stampeded as soon as you walk out that door. The press can't stop talking about you, and I'm sure they'll want an interview."

"Tch. I have other things to do. Maybe some other time."

"Ah heh..." the inspector shook his head at the naive, blonde. "That's not quite how it works. I mean, they're going to swarm you, block your path, and shove twenty microphones in your face."

"How do they know so much about this, already?" Shizuo ground out. "Aren't you people supposed to keep this kind of thing secret? Don't I have rights?"

"Well, it seems, your little friend Orihara decided to give you a glowing testimony. He called a news station and sang your praises for about a half hour. Now, every reporter in Tokyo wants an interview with the man who literally punched the serial killer into oblivion. On top of it all, Orihara told the press that you were a hero, and you routinely give half your paycheck to children's charities and rescue baby puppies."

"P-puppies?"

"Yes, I believe those were his exact words."

"That god damn flea bag!" Shizuo growled, but there was a smile on his face. "What else did he say?"

"Umm..." the inspector was slightly put off by Shizuo's strange look. "I think he said something about how friendly you are and how much you like to answer questions. He told everyone to thank you in person for tracking down and defending the city against such a villainous monstrosity, er, something like that. He practically told the world you'd be getting out around this time, today."

"Ha!" Shizuo threw back his head and laughed, putting a cigarette in his mouth. He stuck his hands in his pockets and headed for the door, but he paused once he caught a look of what was outside. Around a hundred reporters and more than a few civilians were there to no doubt "thank" him, as Izaya had instructed.

"What are you going to do? Wanna stay here until this whole thing blows over?" the inspector asked.

"No. I'm going to go pound that flea bag's face in," Shizuo shrugged.

"Wha? Why do you keep calling him 'flea bag'? I thought you two were friends or something!"

"That's why I'm going to pound his face in," a maniacal grin spread across the blonde man's face as he bit down on his cigarette. "It's my way of saying thanks."

"What about that?" he nodded his head to the window.

"They're gonna get out of my way." Shizuo opened the door and stepped out into the snow. He had just lit his cigarette before there was a yell, and a flourish of bodies surrounding him.

"Mr. Heiwajima, how does it feel to be a free man?"

"What went through your mind when Mr. Orihara was shot?"

"Did you know Yoshi Taketori was the serial killer?"

"Mr. Orihara said he once observed you walking across a lake to heal and injured swan, can you comment more about that, please?"

"Look," Shizuo brushed the microphones out of his face only to have them practically jammed into his mouth again. The flashes from the cameras were beginning to make him see spots. "You're pissing me off. Get the hell out of my way." His words didn't seem to make a difference.

"Do you have any comment on Mr. Taketori's death? You both did work together."

"How many puppies have you rescued?"

"SHIZUO, MY LOVE!" Shizuo's head snapped up. From seemingly out of nowhere, Hisa crashed into him, hugging him tightly. Shizuo was so stunned, his body went completely rigid, and he said nothing. "Shizuo! I can't believe you caught the serial killer! It's so amazing! You're a hero!"

"Excuse me, miss. Who are you?" one of the reporters asked.

"I'm his fiancée!" Hisa said quite loudly. This elicited many gasps and more pictures from the crowd. By this time, Shizuo had recovered, and after taking a drag of his cigarette, he picked Hisa up, bridal style, and began walking. The reporters made way for him, but continued to follow them a short way down the street. Hisa couldn't be more thrilled. "Isn't this fantastic, Shizuo? It's like a storybook! You wound up being quite exceptional, after all!" She continued to blab on, and Shizuo remained silent and kept on walking. "Mother and father are completely floored! You should have seen their faces when we watched the news broad cast! I just knew that I had to come find you right away, and-...Shizuo? Shizuo, what are you doing?" Shizuo had taken a slight turn down the nearest alleyway.

"Taking out the garbage."

With an elbow, he popped open the lid to the large garbage bin, and rather unceremoniously dumped Hisa inside it. The lid slammed shut as she let out an undignified squeak. There was a flourish of photos snapping, as microphones once again crowded his face.

"Mr. Heiwajima, does this mean you and Ms. Akiyama are through?"

"Isn't it true that she had previously dumped you?"

Shizuo tried to push through the wall of people, but they were unyielding. "Move," he said, flatly. They made no effort to comply, only continuing to pepper him with questions.

"Are you aware of the statement her father made to the press after your arrest?"

"Is it true you threw their family dogs? Do you only have a liking for puppies?"

Shizuo snapped his cigarette and let it fall to the ground. Stepping on it, he began to crack his knuckles. "I asked nicely, but you just wouldn't listen," he lamented, though there was an evil smile on his face. The media crew began to pale and back up slowly. "Since you guys won't move, guess I'll just have to clear a path for myself!" Without warning, Shizuo reached out and grabbed the nearest reporter, and with a twirl, sent him flying over the crowd. He then easily grabbed a nearby camera man, who was filming the outburst. After throwing his camera on the roof of the nearest building, he grabbed the terrified man by a leg and began swinging him around so that the rest of the people were forced to flee or else be knocked over. Shizuo laughed loudly, as he let go of the camera man, sending him into a pile of trash bags. The man gave a yelp, and once he had regained his balance, fled with the rest of the people now scattering in all directions. "That's right, god damn it! You'd better run!" He roared, starting in their general direction. This only made their fleeing more frantic. "The name's Shizuo Heiwajima! Don't you forget it!" In a matter of minutes, there was not a human in sight. Well, Hisa would have been if the dumpster top wasn't currently besting her. The blonde man listened to her frantic rattlings for a second before shrugging and walking on. After all, she had been to college. He was confident she was smart enough to figure something out...eventually. After lighting another cigarette, the blonde man was just about be on his way when he felt his pocket vibrate. Curiously, he drew out his cell phone and stared at it. It was from an unknown caller.

"Yeah?" he answered.

"Looks like you had a party, and didn't invite me!" Shizuo's eyes widened at the all too familiar voice. "I understand, but I'm oh, so hurt!"

"I-Izaya?"

"Still, it was quite a show! Who knew neanderthals could be so entertaining?" The voice let out an amused laugh that made Shizuo's ears turn a little red, but he didn't feel that angry.

"Where are you, flea bag?" he demanded, peering at all of the buildings around him. "And why aren't you still in the god damn hospital?"

"Mmm, quick healer. Besides, how could I miss your grand reintroduction back into society?"

"Tell me where you are right now, you little punk!"

"What ever for, Shizu-chan? Don't tell me you actually miss me! Awe, I'm touched!"

Okay, well now Shizuo was angry. He clenched his jaw so hard, the other half of his cigarette fell to the ground. "So that's the way it's going to be, huh? You're human again, and you don't give a damn about anybody else! Why the fuck did you save me in the first place?" Shizuo practically screamed into the receiver and then shattered the cell phone in a fit of rage. "IZAYAH, YOU STUPID FLEA BAG!" he roared, his voice echoing in the empty street amongst the crowded buildings.

"Really, Shizuo..." Shizuo startled and whirled around to see a sight that brought such utter conflict to his brain, he could only stare wide-eyed, his mouth gaping. His eyes traveled over the familiar fur trimmed jacket, no doubt recently retrieved from his apartment, as a slender, white hand deftly snapped a cell phone shut, slipping it into a pocket, and quickly settled on a face he did not know. Smirking, reddish brown eyes gleamed at him, slightly obscured by black, shaggy bangs that framed a delicately pointed face. The smallest curve of a smile lifted the corners of his mouth, as he raised his fine eyebrows quizzically and inclined his head. He had somehow managed to walk within a meter of the blonde man without Shizuo hearing a thing and now stood with his hip cocked slightly to the side. "There's no need to yell. You'll wake the dead." Shizuo still didn't speak. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to believe the man standing before him was that same annoying little shit he'd practically waited on, hand and foot, the past two months. The same one that rode around on his shoulders and slept curled up next to him every night. The same one that had such an overwhelming fondness for sushi and cream. His eye caught the sight of white bandages peaking beyond the edges of the collar of the man's V-neck shirt, almost mirroring his own that were wrapped around his shoulder. Following his gaze, the faintest blush tinted the darker haired man's features. Shizuo's unrelenting stare seemed to make him a little uneasy, and he glanced about nervously before looking back at Shizuo through the corner of his eyes. "What?" he finally asked. His voice was a bit unsure, and he was unable to look the former bartender in the face. Trying to regain his composure, the informant gave a toss of his head, as a mischievous grin spread across his face, showing all of his teeth. "You like what you see, or something?" he practically purred. "I admit, my beauty is something mere mortals grovel before. No doubt you are-"

Shizuo didn't let Izaya finish. With one long stride, he had his arms around the smaller man and drew him close to his chest. Izaya went stiff as a board and his eyes were huge as Shizuo's large hand wrapped around the back of his head and gently pushed it into his shoulder.

"It's really you..." Shizuo mumbled softly, squeezing him tighter, though he was careful to avoid the place he'd been hurt. Izaya startled when something wet fell on his shoulder. "I thought...I really thought you were dead..."

Slowly relaxing, a genuine smile Shizuo couldn't see ghosted across the informant's face. He patted the underside of the taller man's elbows, lightly. "How could I die and leave such a hopeless neanderthal all by himself? Seriously, Shizuo, you cry a lot." Izaya laughed, deeply, and the sound made something in Shizuo's chest leap. The blonde man could suddenly feel his heartbeat in his ears, and he would have hugged him even more tightly had he not been concerned for his injury.

"Shut up, flea bag!" he grumbled.

"Ah! I'm not a flea bag anymore! I'm sure you've noticed a decisive lack of fur!" Izaya trilled. Shizuo couldn't be more happy as he held Izaya by the shoulders at arm's length and stared into his auburn colored eyes.

"You're right. You're just a flea, now."

"Oh, gee. That's moving up, I guess," Izaya rolled his eyes. "You're still a neanderthal, so that means you're still buying me dinner."

"Russia Sushi?"

"As if there was any other place." Shizuo just shook his head and began walking, lighting another cigarette. "We can't take the path that goes by the hospital, though. I think they've put out a search for me."

Shizuo threw back his head and laughed. Izaya grinned at him, but his smile quickly faded when Shizuo abruptly stopped, giving him a serious look. "Sushi first, then your skinny little ass is going straight back to that hospital to make a full recovery."

"Don't you think I'm old enough to-" Shizuo growled at him and Izaya abruptly cut off his sentence with a smirk. He remained silent for a few moments. "You know...this is kind of strange...I feel like I should be sitting on your shoulder."

"Yeah...Happy to be human again, I'll bet."

"Of course! But, you know? Being a fox isn't that bad when you have a gargantuan neanderthal to do all of your bidding."

"I only did it because you were cute...and fluffy!" Shizuo lamely defended.

"Oh my, you're about to hurt my feelings!" Izaya placed a hand over his heart for emphasis. "Is Shizu-chan saying I'm not cute now?"

"Damn straight!" Shizuo lied with a mumble. "What finally turned you back, anyway?" Izaya blushed slightly, and waved his hand dismissively before putting it back in his pocket. "Come on! You can at least tell me now that it's all done, right?" Shizuo pressed.

"It's a secret," Izaya winked, putting a finger to his lips.

"Why does everything with you have to be a god damn secret!"

"I just really can't see how it would benefit me in the slightest for you to know, Shizu-chan."

"Maybe it will benefit you if I don't pound your face in for not telling me," Shizuo smiled with his teeth. "You know, since you're just a flea and not all cute and fluffy anymore."

"Ah, does this mean our little shower-massage sessions have come to an end? I rather enjoyed those." Izaya gave a wistful sigh, still ignoring the question. Shizuo turned a lovely shade of red, which made the informant's eyes light up with glee.

"Oh yeah...Forgot about that..." The blonde man mumbled, suddenly overwhelmed with memories that wouldn't exist if he'd ever thought Izaya would really turn human again.

"Mmm, but you know...I could return the favor now." He held up his hands and flexed his fingers, suggestively. "What do you say to that?"

Shizuo gave a lopsided smirk, pushing his cigarette to the other side of his mouth. "Nice try, flea. You're still going back to the hospital after dinner."

"Humph!" Izaya tossed his head with a frown. "Why did they call you stupid, again?"

Shizuo smiled warmly and ruffled a hand through Izaya's hair. "Glad you're back, Foxy."

tHe EnD!