"CYHYRAETH, WAIT UP!" came a voice from far behind the headless rider. She stopped, for no other reason than that no one else near her could be mistaken for someone with that kind of name. The boy, whose voice it was, jogged up a huge disbelieving smile on his face, an unreasonably fluffy, boy was trying to catch his breath a way behind him.
She took out her phone and typed "Me?"
"Yes you. You're looking great, long time no see! How long's it been? A hundred and seventy five years? Since I tried running away to Europe. I don't think I ever properly thanked you for that so yeah… thanks…"
"Sorry, Who are you?" She typed
"Yato… you remember me? Right? Yato…" he deflated. "You don't remember."
The fluffy blond one reached them "have you made a friend?"
"I guess I was wrong…" Yato said sadly. He tried to turn but a hand was on his shoulder pulling him back to look at a screen on which was written
"You remember me? Come NOW!" she summoned up a sidecar and pulled the boys in, driving away at breakneck speeds.
Yato tried his best to roll with the revelations. He'd been vaguely searching for the girl his father's obsession had wrapped itself around, through the night. He was falling asleep on his feet. It was ridiculous. It wasn't as if in his current state he would even be able to put up a decent fight, especially not against his father.
Shizuo leant against a wall as he had a smoke and watched his friend text frantically at thin air. It wasn't the strangest thing he'd seen her do. Even as she pulled thin air onto her bike and rode off towards her apartment, it wasn't that strange for her.
Though it might be that strange is relative around here.
A dull tap on his jaw broke through his thoughts. He looked at where it had come from. A skinny dark haired man was holding a handful of pebbles in one hand, and a single one ready to be thrown in the other. Shizuo could have recognized him anywhere, if it wasn't for the wrongness.
It was something in the smile and the stance. It was definitely Izaya Orihara, but the smile was forced, trying to look easy going and smug, and failing. Not getting it to reach his eyes. His posture was off too… vulnerable… wavering. "Get out of the city, you damn…" Shizuo started but it was forced and faded away. What was wrong with him? The sight of the flea's face, a reliable trigger, was there, but somehow he couldn't feel anything but hazy concern.
He waited for the flea, who seemed as surprised as he was at his calm, to speak. But he didn't. "What's up, lost your voice." Izaya gave an unnaturally quiet laugh and a roll of his eyes but then deflated slightly and nodded. Shizuo felt laughter build up in him and erupt, which seemed to actually scare Izaya. "Don't go getting it back any time soon. I could hate you a bit less like this."
Izaya's face contorted into expressions of anger, cycling through levels of frustration and then despair before he threw another pebble at Shizuo. It bounced off his forehead, without making a dent in Shizuo's temper or his skin. "Is that the best you can do without your powers of witty repartee?". Izaya dropped the pebbles, eyes narrowing in annoyance, or possibly in readiness to fight, and he started walking forward. He raised his hands to where Shizuo could see their emptiness. The uncertainty Shizuo felt at this could only partly be explained by the strangeness of the other man's behaviour. It was putting him on guard, and he'd not got a defensive bone in his body.
He found himself just standing, watching the man get closer, hoping that he could summon the strength that he'd need when Izaya inevitably drew a knife.
It wasn't happening. The man just got closer. The focus in his eyes were doing strange things to Shizuo's heartbeat. It beat as if he was about to wrench the wall he leant upon off its foundations, but he couldn't move.
Very close. Too close. Fingers brushing his lips as they took the cigarette out of his mouth. His heart needed to calm the hell down. It needed to stop sending blood to his cheeks. A hand behind a jaw. Head too light. Lips pressed against his. Eyes closed. A gasp. An opened mouth. An eager tongue exploring. His tongue joining it. Poking. What was he doing? Prodding. This was Izaya? He felt… paper?
He pulled back in surprise, feeling a tug as several hairs were pulled from the back of his head. "The Hell was that?!" he shouted, and Izaya gave an embarrassed smile, the first he'd let Shizuo see, and quickly skipped back a few paces. Holding golden hairs in one hand, and a smoking cigarette in the other, he gave a wink and darted away, as strange as he'd been the whole time.
"Did that… Did that… really happen?" he said, patiently waiting for it all to make sense. He reached up to his lips for the cigarette that was unfortunately, not there.
The door beside him opened Tom looked at him "Smoke break's over. Time to… are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I… might have… I just always thought I'd know about this one's death…" That made more sense than anything so far… yes… Izaya had picked a fight too big for him and now his ghost was… no… why would his ghost want to…
This was intended to be a fight scene... It kinda still is... but Shizu-chan wouldn't cooperate...
Izaya without witty repartee kinda scares me... Fujisaki needs to cut out the Little Mermaid stuff... he's kissed his true love. Now let him be sassy...
