Chapter 06 - Unmovable King
Girls were supposed to be light. They were supposed to be cute. And although they could be annoying, they were never supposed to be drooling all over your jacket as you walked them the rest of the way to your office because you didn't know where they lived. (That was, after taking a taxi to get all the way back to Shinjuku in the first place, and having her drool all over his shoulder on the way.) But then again, maybe Yomi didn't quite qualify as a girl.
Izaya couldn't even force a smile, trudging through a dark, deserted alleyway. As he passed by a loaded trash bin, he inwardly debated whether or not it would be a good idea to dump Yomi in it. She was awfully heavy, and he was definitely going to have to wash his coat after this. All that drool... How could one person drool so much?
But Simon would probably punch his lights out if he left her sitting in a trash can all night. Shizuo would probably hunt him down and maim him with a traffic meter... Behead him with a stop sign... Chuck a vending machine at him... Something creative and horrifyingly painful like that.
While he paused there, in the wide open space between two large buildings, pondering the idea to himself, Izaya didn't notice that Yomi had begun to stir. At least not until he heard her say, "Ah... Uzaya-chan, you're such a bumpy ride."
Disregarding her grogginess, he knelt down slightly and dumped her off his back. "Off you go," his voice chimed gleefully. He was so happy to have lifted all that weight from his back... Even though he'd only been trudging, with her body draped over him, for little more than three minutes.
The only problem was that, while he had intended for her to land on her feet, she landed with a noisy thud on the ground. Yomi's body was sprawled across the concrete, her head lulling about as her half-lidded eyes gazed languidly up at Izaya. She seemed to still be in a drunken haze.
Not that he really cared. In fact, Izaya was too busy dusting himself off and examining the large pool of drool that had accumulated on his jacket. "Drool," he muttered, absolutely chagrined at the sight of it. On his favorite fur-lined jacket, no less. "You really aren't cute, Yomi-chan."
Her dark hair was splayed out across the ground beneath her as she rocked from side to side, groaning in agony. "My stomach..." Yomi managed to lift her head a little as she pressed her trembling hand against her abdomen. When she lifted it, her fingers were coated in a thin layer of warm liquid. "Blood," she gasped out in what sounded more like a giggle.
Izaya had already turned his gaze toward her, eyeing her hand curiously. The blood immediately caught his attention. He knelt down beside her, his eyes briefly flitting to her hand before glancing down at her stomach. It was hard to discern the red of her shirt from the blood that had soaked through it. So he start to roll up her shirt to get a better look.
"Pervert," she fussed, despite her cheerful tone.
Unabashed by her rude remark, Izaya fully rolled up her shirt until he came across the sight of the wound. It was bleeding profusely, slightly to the side beneath her right breast. Though he couldn't be positive, but it looked like a gunshot wound. "Very sneaky, Yomi-chan. You were wounded this whole time and never even showed it. Too bad, though, looks like it's infected. This is a bullet wound, right?" There was no concern evident on his face as he examined it with great curiosity.
"It doesn't matter if it heals," she dismissed in a strained voice. Her face – pale and barely distinguishable through the thick blanket of darkness – was contorted in anguish. "It's from Hiro-chan."
"You're saying he shot you?" Izaya prompted, his curiosity piqued by this new tidbit of information.
But Yomi didn't answer him. She just stared up at him absentmindedly as though she'd never even heard his question. Perhaps it was because of the pain that her thoughts were elsewhere.
"You could really die from that, you know," he observed. Her shirt was still rolled up into his fist. The fabric was wet from her blood and still warm, though it didn't seem to bother Izaya that his fingers were becoming covered in the thick crimson liquid. In fact, he seemed too engrossed with her wound to care about anything else.
The two of them were an odd sight that could easily be misinterpreted by any passerby, with one exception: no one had, nor was anyone going to pass by. It was a back alley that was littered with empty soda cans, supermarket sacks, and cigarette butts. And there in the midst of it was Yomi, sprawled out upon the concrete, a small puddle of blood forming beneath her limp body. Then there was Izaya, still kneeling beside her, hovering over her with the eyes of a predator.
But Yomi was too drunk to think much of their situation. In fact, she seemed to smile at the thought that she could die from her infected wound. "Doesn't matter," she told him carelessly, "As long as I kill the people who took Hiro-chan from me first."
Even though he was a good distance from her face, he could still smell the liquor on her breath. It was a strangely sweet smell that nevertheless prompted Izaya to turn his face away. She was definitely still drunk, but he also knew she meant what she was saying. "Unfortunately, Yomi-chan, I really can't have you die so soon." His lips twitched as he unfurled her shirt and smoothed it back out over her abdomen. The paleness of his knuckles contrasted with his fingers which seemed to almost blend into the night. Izaya's eyes didn't linger on such insignificant details for long. He stood up and nudged Yomi with his foot. "If you lay there all night, people might really think you're dead," he told her in a sing-song voice. (As though the very thought was amusing to him.)
As she stared up at him Yomi noticed that Izaya was smiling at her. "I hate that creepy smile."
Izaya chuckled. "Can't stand up?" He was taunting her again.
"No," she confirmed honestly. "Want to give me a piggyback ride?"
"If you have the energy to ask petulant questions then there's no need." He turned on his heel and started back down across the concrete with his hands shoved into the depths of his pockets.
Yomi watched his back silently as he left. It was surprisingly broad, which she hadn't noticed even as she'd been draped over it. He didn't seem like he was very strong. Actually, he seemed to be swaying back and forth while he was walking. She smiled to herself as she closed her eyes. Izaya was probably a little drunk too.
It wasn't bleeding that badly. At least, he was pretty sure it wasn't... She wouldn't die laying there in the middle of that alleyway, would she? Simon would probably join Shizuo in hunting him down if that happened... Trouble like that wasn't really anything new for him. He was convinced it didn't matter. Except there was one thing on his mind. Yomi fit perfectly into a particular large scheme plan he'd been toiling with for over six months. She couldn't very well play the imperative part he was hoping if she went and died on him. What was one piggyback ride? (Aside from an utter loss of dignity, but then again, he didn't have much of that after being drooled all over.)
The tall, lanky man casually turned around and trudged back to the apparently unconscious girl. "Have you died yet, Yomi-chan?" He nudged her with his foot as he asked the question, peering down at her motionless face. Izaya could still visibly see the rise and fall of her chest as she inhaled and exhaled, but her breathing had grown shallow.
Her eyes fluttered open and she tiredly forced a smile up at him. "I'm not dead yet."
The expression on his face displayed no relief at her statement. Izaya knelt down beside her with his back turned toward her. "You better hurry and get on, or I really will have to leave you behind to die this time~" It seemed by the tone of his voice as though he was just joking around but Yomi knew better.
Even though she was groggy, tired, and every part of her body seemed uncooperative with the commands she gave them, she managed to crawl up onto his back. She lazily draped her arms over his shoulder and slumped forward as he lifted her up. Through the thin fabric covering her legs she could feel how warm his hands were as they grasped her thighs.
It was painfully obvious how much Izaya struggled as he tried to stand up and move forward. He stumbled from side to side, swaying so dangerously that it felt almost like an amusement park ride to Yomi. "Whee!" she exclaimed delightedly, much to his chagrin, which elicited a jab from him about her weight.
"You really should be careful about your weight, Yomi-chan. I hope you don't eat sushi like that all the time. You'll really pack on the pounds. Even Shi-chan who has weird tastes wouldn't be interested in a cow." He strained to smile despite how much he struggled just to try to walk straight. Good God, why was she so heavy?
"You're terrible at piggyback rides," she whispered back to him, "Hiro-chan was better."
"Too bad he's dead," Izaya responded sardonically with a lopsided smirk. It was a tactless thing to say, though he didn't really care. He also wasn't particularly concerned about being talented at piggyback rides. In fact, he was perfectly content to be considered inferior at them. That meant he wouldn't have to give them often. (Which, considering he'd never given piggyback rides before to begin with, not even with his sisters, would probably explain his lack of ability to do them in the first place.)
Her hands balled up into fists as they clutched at the material of his jacket. "It really is too bad," she agreed through gritted teeth. For once Yomi's voice lacked its usual cheerfulness, though that didn't last long. "By the way, Uzaya-chan... Do I need to pay a fee?" Suddenly she started rocking back and forth on his back, causing him to only further lose control of his balance.
While he struggled to maintain control, he replied, "A fee? Am I taxi?"
"Mmhmm! You're a really crappy taxi."
He scoffed. A taxi? That was one of the last things he wanted to be compared to. So much for his reputation in information bartering. Now he was a regular transportation service for others to utilize. (And according to Yomi, an incompetent one at that.) "If you want to pay me back, then don't die until I tell you. Then when I tell you to die, don't hesitate." His own sly response left him smirking triumphantly.
"Okay," she agreed, much to his astonishment. "I won't die until Uzaya-chan tells me to. As long as it's after I kill the people who took Hiro-chan away from me. Then I don't mind, whenever Uzaya-chan says. Okay?" Her arms squeezed around his neck, almost dangerously so.
Though he was pleased about how accepting she was over what he'd most likely intended to be a joke, Izaya was beginning to rethink his idea to piggyback her the rest of the way to his office. In fact that seemed like a bad idea now. A really bad idea. But there was one positive... Despite her unpredictable nature, he was starting to understand Yomi. He was starting to see the truth beneath the layer of lies she'd masked herself with. That part itself was exciting.
"It really hurts..." It was evident by the way her voice strained as she spoke. Yomi shifted uncomfortably on his back, which nearly wrested his grip away from her thigh, though Izaya narrowly managed to hold on until she settled down again. Her chin came to a rest on his shoulder as she asked, "Are you taking me to a hospital?"
"Nope! There's a lady at my office that can fix you up for free."
His office? That didn't even some remotely appealing. There was something about Izaya that was altogether suspicious. Yomi didn't trust, even for a moment, that he didn't have some ulterior motive. It did seem odd that he'd come back to carry her after dumping her at the first sign that she was conscious. "You're planning to sell my kidneys," she deduced.
A smirk crawled up onto his lips, although Yomi couldn't see it.
She could, however, interpret his silence on the matter. "Well, as long as you leave me one, I don't mind!" Though her voice still sounded a bit pained, she managed to retain her cheerful demeanor.
This, to Izaya, seemed like a good trade. He'd sacrificed his much beloved coat and selling her kidney might actually be proper compensation for all the trouble he'd gone through to save her. (That is, neglecting all the plans he had to use her to further his own agenda, which was the actual reason he'd gone out of the way to ensure she didn't bleed to death on the pavement...)
Regardless, the two were fortunate that they had finally arrived at their destination. In the darkness, with her eyes half-lidded, Yomi could barely discern the exterior of Izaya's office. Beyond that it was a relatively large building. She was only vaguely aware of what was going on as Izaya stumbled through the darkness as they entered into his office.
"Namie?" he called out.
There was no response, and the jerky ride she'd been on while being carried on Izaya's back ended abruptly as he dumped her onto his couch. "Ouch!" Yomi groaned in pain from the impact, despite the well-cushioned leather that caught her fall. "Uzaya-chan has no sense of delicacy with girls." She pressed her trembling hand firmly against her wound to try and staunch the blood flow. Grimacing visibly from the pain, Yomi gritted her teeth while taking deep breaths. The cold outside had done well to numb her from feeling much, but now her skin tingled from the warmth of the heated interior.
A light flickered on suddenly, and it was blinding. Her eyelids snapped closed and in the background she heard the sound of a beeping cell phone as Izaya keyed in a number. Apparently he was calling someone.
"I hope your lady friend gets here fast or you might have a red couch and a dead body. But I guess the kidney might still be good." She mused her own thoughts out loud to keep her mind off of the pain.
As he stood there just a few feet from where she lay, Izaya smirked to himself as he listened to the idle ringing on the other end of the line, his cell phone pressed firmly against his ear. "There's no problem if the kidney is alright," he assured coldly. Yomi wasn't sure whether he was joking or not.
"Heeeello!" a voice suddenly blared from the other end of the phone. The black-haired informant was forced to pull his ear away, wincing at the deafening noise of the jubilant doctor's obnoxious answer. "Coincidentally I was just thinking it might be a good idea to call you." It was Shinra's usual antics.
In the background was the audible murmuring, "Kill, kill, kill," that was easily distinguishable as Shizuo's voice.
Casting a brief glance at the miserable Yomi, Izaya trailed across the floor and rounded his desk. He plopped down in his chair which rolled back several inches from the force of his weight. "Ah, you two were there with Shizu-chan and his girlfriend." He could vaguely remember getting a brief glance of the headless rider and her doctor boyfriend while running from Shizuo for his life. "How amusing! He should wear that pink crown more often."
Shinra chuckled nervously as Shizuo's raspy voice spoke up in the background, "The person calling... It isn't I-za-ya, is it?" The way he put murderous emphasis on each syllable of Izaya's name was a bit chilling. It left an unpleasant taste in Izaya's mouth.
"Unfortunately Shizu-chan's girlfriend is bleeding to death on my couch." The informant breathed a sigh as he twirled in his chair. Everything around him spun into an indiscernible blur, but it was positively exhilarating. (At the very least it distracted him from the drying drool on the shoulder of the coat he was still wearing.) "It's really troublesome."
"She's bleeding to death?" the doctor questioned in earnest.
"Bleeding to death?" Shizuo echoed furiously in the background. The sound of shattering glass and splintering wood followed soon after, accompanied by the sound of scrambling footsteps that Izaya could only assume belonged to Celty. No doubt the headless woman was making a fervent attempt to soothe her raging friend to keep him from destroying her shared apartment with Shinra.
"I hope you have money to pay for that, too, Shizuo." Yet Shinra showed no hint of irritation in his voice as he spoke. He breathed no exasperated sigh and, contrarily, seemed just as amused as Izaya.
Slamming his feet against the floor, Izaya stopped spinning abruptly. He was left with a dizzy feeling as everything around him seemed to wobble and shake. It didn't help that he was still a bit tipsy from the bit of alcohol he'd had earlier. "Yomi-chan got shot," he said gleefully, hoping that Shinra would once again repeat it and elicit a funny response from Shizuo. He was positively delighted at his rival's chagrin.
And he did. "Shot? How did she get shot?"
"Her shot her?" There was another crashing sound. This time Shinra didn't bother to comment on it.
"Looks like a recent wound that reopened because she wasn't taking care of it. She's offered me up one of her kidneys if I save her." Izaya picked up a pen from his desk and twirled it between his fingers.
"Her kidney...?" The doctor didn't seem to catch onto the joke.
"I'm not really interested in the illegal organ trade," Izaya confessed with a shrug, "But you're welcome to it."
Still laying on the couch adjacent to the desk which Izaya found himself sitting behind, Yomi had finally managed to peek over at him despite the bright light shining down in her face. She noted dully how well-furnished his office was as she waited for him to finish his phone conversation. Rivulets of blood had managed to trickle through the cracks between her fingers. It felt warm, albeit gooey and unpleasant.
The sound of Izaya's idle chatter left her watching him wistfully. Yomi's insatiable curiosity had her wondering who he was talking to and what he was talking about. (Though she was perhaps just as equally envious of that rolling chair of his. It looked fun to play in... Not that she was particularly thinking about playing around in her current state.) Her vision was still swimming, and she'd yet to figure out if that was because of the blood loss or the alcohol in her system.
Since the bleeding had slowed, the pain had begun to subside at least a little. She still preoccupied herself with idle thoughts to distract herself. At least until the sound of Izaya's flip phone snapping shut reeled her back to reality. Her head jerked as she quickly glanced in his direction.
The informant grinned widely at her as he approached, the heels of his shoes clicking against the floor. "He didn't even want your kidney, poor Yomi-chan." Though he didn't say it in a pitying voice.
Her eyes lingered on him as he came to a stop just a foot in front of her. Yomi had to crane her neck up to look at him. "Is he coming?" she asked with a tinge of curiosity and desperation in her voice.
"First," he said, holding one finger up in the air, "How long have you had that wound?"
Though she didn't particularly want to answer, she honestly pondered the question. "Almost two weeks, Uzaya-chan. Why do you want to know?"
Ignoring her question, he persisted. "When did it start bleeding earlier?"
"It probably aggravated it while we were running from Shi-chan. I didn't really notice it until I woke up, though." She grinned at him. "That must mean it's all Uzaya-taxi's fault. Uzaya-chan is a horrible driver. Everything was really bumpy and uncomfortable."
Not that she expected him to feel the least bit of guilt for his part in her discomfort, but Izaya actually seemed to be haughty about it. "You're blaming me?" He chuckled at her. "Were you even in a hospital after you were shot? Doesn't look like that wound was very well taken care of."
"I left the hospital the day after I was admitted."
His eyes flickered as he leaned down toward her face. "What hospital were you admitted to?" Though he hadn't made it overtly obvious before that he was fishing for information, it was spelled out clearly now.
Yomi's lips puckered slightly as she blew air in his face. "Not telling you."
Briefly he closed his eyes in response before rubbing his face with his sleeve. "Why so secretive, Yomi-chan?" He didn't seem terribly pleased at her reluctance to disclose her "secrets." As an informant it probably frustrated him to not have information on a person.
"You can only know the things I want you to know, Uzaya-chan, otherwise you'll be dangerous to me." Her eyes closed for a moment as she inhaled sharply. "You aren't just interested in me because you think I'm 'interesting'. It's because you want something, right? And I don't mean my kidney."
He cocked his head back. "Oh? You could tell?"
"Even bad taxis have things that they want to accomplish. Uzaya-chan probably has an agenda like that too."
Perhaps, he was beginning to think, he hadn't given her enough credit. Though her intelligence was surely no match to his own, she wasn't completely naive and gullible. In fact she seemed more perceptive than he had initially thought. Unfortunately for Yomi, she was at a disadvantage against someone as calculating and clever as Izaya. He could only know what she wanted him to know? That was laughable; he already knew far more than she thought he did.
—
The apartment was practically in shambles. The large sliding doors that led out to the balcony had been shattered by a flying couch that was hanging on the railing of said balcony, where Celty was struggling to pull it back over. She had been particularly alarmed by Shizuo's dangerous raging that had left her shared apartment with Shinra looking as though a hurricane had run through it.
Surveying the damage from behind his spectacles, Shinra scratched at his chin. As carefree as usual, he didn't seem quite as bothered by the state of his home as his "girlfriend" did. In fact, his thoughts were elsewhere.
"Kill, kill, kill..." The bleached-blonde man was sitting on the floor, hunched over with a cigarette clenched between his teeth. Judging by the murderous gleam in his eye, he was about to go over the edge and explode again.
Shinra placed a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Celty and I will go make sure everything is alright! Don't worry, your girlfriend will be okay."
Shizuo's eye twitched. "I'm coming," he stated with great determination as he suddenly stood fully. Both hands were clenched firmly at his side, his knuckles a noticeable white from the force. If his nails hadn't been cut down to the nubs, he would've surely cut the palm of his hands with them.
The headless female, who had managed to save their couch that Shizuo had chucked through their balcony doors, raced back into the living room. She already had her PDA out and her fingers were running across it furiously. "No, you will not!" For once, she seemed genuinely angry with Shizuo. "Go back home and wait there."
"But Izaya-"
He tried to protest, but she interrupted. "I can only fit myself and one other on the motorcycle. What is important is saving your girlfriend. Stay behind this time."
His nostrils flared as he gritted his teeth. "He shot her." Not that Shizuo had any evidence, but the very thought left him prepared to send another miscellaneous piece of furniture flying through the house.
"You don't know that for sure." Though Celty couldn't honestly say that she trusted Izaya enough to think he wasn't capable of it, she nevertheless jumped to his defense. Whether that was because she genuinely wanted to believe that the informant wouldn't resort to such means, or she merely wanted to calm Shizuo down didn't matter.
"Celty-chan is right!" Shinra grinned affectionately over at the shadowy substance billowing out from her open neck as though looking at a person's face. "If you're there, then I can't feel her up-"
Smack!
It would've been smarter to leave his intentions unspoken.
Though Shizuo still wasn't thoroughly convinced, and still fully determined to maim and dismember every part of his rival's body, he was forced to relent. It was true that his hate for Izaya probably superseded any concern he had for Yomi, he had enough sense to know where and when to pick his battles. As much as he wanted to flail Izaya on the spot, it was more important to save a life. His shoulders sagged visibly as he stomped toward the door.
"Shizuo?"
"Going home," he snapped back as Shinra as he grabbed the door knob. (And ripped the whole door off its hinges.)
While the gray-eyed doctor merely smiled blithely to himself despite his torn up apartment, Celty seemed positively exasperated. "Are you ready, Celty-chan?" he asked her while massaging at his swollen, puffy cheek. There was definitely going to be a bruise left where she had hit him. Not that he minded it at all.
Her fingers flitted across the lit up screen for a moment. "Are you sure it's okay to leave Shizuo like this?"
Shinra waved his hand dismissively. "Don't worry, Celty-chan. We'll fix up his girlfriend and then he'll be back to his usual self." There was a noticeable absence of the word 'happy' between 'usual' and 'self.' That was probably because Shizuo was always a bit aloof and standoffish toward most people.
"Let's go," Celty typed out hastily before shoving her PDA into her pocket. She snatched her helmet off the counter and quickly secured it over her neck. Once finished, the headless woman briskly strode down the narrow hallway leading to the front entrance of their apartment. Shinra followed closely behind her with his one cheek colored a distinct red with the imprinted mark of a hand.
"I don't think we're going to be able to close the door," Shinra observed with a smile. He didn't seem the least bit bothered that his front door was hanging lopsidedly from its half-torn off hinges. The handle was also dangling rather useless, probably broken from the force of Shizuo's grip when he'd wrenched it open.
Sighing to herself in a way that only a headless person could, Celty silently agreed with him. They were going to have to buy a new door. But that didn't matter now; they needed to make haste. So Celty beckoned her lecherous, quirky "boyfriend" along and the two descended the stairs to the base floor of the apartment building. Outside she had left her motorcycle, somewhat precariously, sitting in the middle of the concrete sidewalk where the few people in the area were forced to dodge it as they walked by.
She mounted it in one swift motion, swinging her leg over the side before settling down on the nicely cushioned seat. Shinra followed shortly thereafter, climbing over the side rather clumsily. The entire motorcycle rocked back and forth as the young doctor struggled up onto it. At last when he'd managed to take a seat, he barely had the moment to take a breath before Celty accelerated at full speed.
Shinra latched onto her for dear life and ducked his head behind her shoulder as the wind rushed into his face. In their hurry he'd forgotten to ask her to fashion him a helmet from her shadows. (Or maybe she'd intentionally neglected to do so, so he would suffer for the lewd comment he'd made earlier...)
—
"You're not going to take my kidney, Doctor-chan?"
He pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, not even pausing to glance up into the face of the girl who posed the question toward him. "Celty-chan wouldn't be very happy if I did that." His eyes narrowed as he inspected the wound on the side of her stomach. The feel of a wet cloth smarted against her skin and Yomi winced at the pain. It chipped away at the coagulated blood that covered her wound. But the disinfectant stung like a thousand needles. "You really should go to a hospital for this."
"I don't like hospitals," she huffed in a childlike voice. "They were talking about keeping me there for two weeks. No thank you!"
Izaya chuckled at her dismissal. He was perched on the armrest of the couch by her feet, his eyes glued the wound on her abdomen. "So stubborn, Yomi-chan. That's why you're in so much pain and it's infected."
"How are your ribs?"
The feel of Shinra's fingers against her skin as he lightly pressed around her ribcage greatly contrasted with the cold cloth he'd been using moments ago. Not that Yomi had much of a chance to feel any relief as she hissed at the sudden pain as his fingertips jabbed into her side. "Ouch! That huuurts... That rib is broken, y'know!"
He blinked slowly before peering up at her and grinning. "I know. Still refuse to go to a hospital?"
"Why go to a hospital when I have you to help me, Doctor-chan?" she countered.
Shinra let out a resigned sigh, smiling despite his exasperation with her. "I'm not fully equipped to deal with a wound as severe as this," he admitted. "But I disinfected it, and I'll bandage it well enough for you. With that broken rib you shouldn't be moving much. It would be best if you could stay off your feet for the next few days at least."
"Impossible," she retorted in a clipped voice.
"Shizu-chan could probably help you with that, Shinra."
Yomi immediately shot Izaya a look. "Maybe I should stay here at Uzaya-chan's office instead. Since it would be so detrimental to my health to move, anyways. It's a long way back to Shi-chan's apartment."
"Good idea," Shinra agreed with a nod.
For the first time, Izaya was genuinely frowning. "Eh?" He quirked a brow questioningly at the other two. "Stay at my office?" There was no mocking grin, no hint of amusement in his voice. Yomi might have thought he was angry until he suddenly choked back a laugh. "You want Yomi-chan to stay here?"
"It would be better not to move her," the doctor confirmed. "Let me just finish with these bandages..."
"She's been skipping down the streets of Ikebukuro for the past week."
"Skipping and singing," Yomi corrected, very matter-of-fact.
Shinra flashed her a brief grin before concentrating on tending to her wound. He unraveled a long bandage roll and proceeded to wrap it around her abdomen. "And you've been following Shizuo too, right?"
"Ah!" A look of realization came across her face, her blue eyes widening as she suddenly remembered where it was she had seen Shinra's face before. When he'd walked into Izaya's office and talked to her, she felt a vague sense of recognition but hadn't been able to put her finger on it. "You were following Shi-chan and I when we were on our date, weren't you?"
There was, for once, a serious look on Shinra's face. He was altogether despondent to her question, too fixated on the task at hand. But Yomi didn't need to hear his answer to confirm what she already knew to be true.
"Doctor-chan, do me a favor and don't speak a word of this to Shi-chan." She held up a single finger to her lips in a hushing gesture while winking at him.
"Mm," he agreed, "Shizuo is the type that would feel guilty if he knew you'd been suffering this kind of pain for the last week. You should be glad the infection isn't bad. If it had been, you could have been dead by now." His lips curled up into a smile as he finally finished and stood to his feet. "Well, I'm finished here."
Yomi lifted her head and glanced down at the wound that he had just finished dressing. She beamed back at him. "You're pretty good at this, Doctor-chan. Thanks! But I can't promise I'll be staying here for very long."
"Just make sure Shizuo is one of the first you visit when you do try to leave," he told her before glancing over at Izaya. "Send my appreciation to Namie for letting me use her supplies and utensils since I couldn't bring mine."
Disgruntled by the turn of events, Izaya merely waved him off, "Will do."
Shinra turned on his heel toward the exit of the building. The tail of his white doctor's coat rippled with every stride he took. From his perched position on the couch, Izaya glared at the other man's receding back.
"Guess I'll be spending a lot of time with you, Uzaya-chan!"
Inwardly he groaned, having come to regret his decision to "save" her. At least, he thought, not all was lost. Even though she'd drooled all over his beloved coat, and surely if it wasn't his favorite he would've burned it already to avoid her contagious stupidity, it wasn't all for not. (However, as he'd later discover, there was a large blotch of crimson staining the back of his coat, leaving it ruined beyond what any cleaning could manage to repair.) Then he would really regret his decision.
Author's Note: Meant to get this up a few days ago, but between school and other hobbies I haven't really have the time. Thanks for the reviews guys! If anyone cares to let me know, I'm curious as to how many are Yomi x Shizuo fans or Yomi x Izaya fans. Though Yomi and Izaya haven't had much time together yet, they're starting to! (Curious as to how much my Shizuo bias is noticeable.)
Static Lull - Thank you so much for the inspiring reviews, I'm so glad to get the feedback. Reaching for Nothing was my NaNo project from last year. :) I finished at about 51,000 words in November. It was insane! But the story itself is only a little over halfway finished. So unfortunately it isn't completely written. I have all the way up to Chapter 9 done and am working on Chapter 10.