Oh hell yes angst alert. The plot is forming slowly but surely. I'm going skiing tomorrow so I won't be writing that much but I'll find time! Just a heads up! I wanted to get this one out before I leave.
Things were going downhill. He didn't think it was possible for things to get any worse, but he was never known for his intelligence. It's like in those books he used to read where someone says "What could possible go wrong? And then everything goes wrong. It was one of those.
When people think of Shizuo, they think of violence and anger, red hot, always burning. When people see him on the streets, they stay away because where Shizuo walks, destruction follows.
And when people see a certain informant and Shizuo at the same time, it's already too late. Then there's screaming and running and flying vending machines and nothing good ever comes out of it.
When people think of Shizuo, they think of rage. But there is another side of him, it is what remains when you take a man and strip him of everything he ever had to live for. It's what happens when you burn him down and wreck him and dance on the ashes and rubble. It's the aftermath of an earth shattering, life quaking event. It's when you lose things you didn't know you had, and then hurry to gather up what little you had left.
It's also known as depression.
This is Shizuo now.
It's been a week. Or two. But maybe it's only been a few days. He doesn't know the difference anymore. He's home. He has been for the past week or two. They had him out rather quick. They said they were "stunned" at his recovery rate. They shipped him out in a wheelchair.
He does need someone to take care of him. He'll admit to that. There's a hospital issued woman that comes by to check up on him in the mornings and the night. Her name was Besana. She has tight black curls cropped short, amber eyes that twinkled when spoke.
She was around Shizuo's age, but maybe a little younger, now that he thinks about it. They talk at night when he can't get to sleep or she doesn't have any plans. She seems to like him, and he's gathered a lot of information about her. Besana seems like a quiet girl, but he has found that she can be quite animated when she speaks of something or someone that she has a passion for.
She doesn't like oranges, they smell sour and she thinks it's annoying that you have to make sure you get all the seeds out before you take a big bite. She adores the movie star Yuhei Hanejima, which Shizuo finds amusing. She has seen all of the movies that he was in and can recite some of his lines by heart.
She's impatient and loud and talks every second of everyday and it leaves Shizuo's head swimming. She works at the hospital because she likes to help people and make friends with the patients. Her favorite color is red because it's striking and rash and she likes that.
She doesn't like sports, and she finds cats moody and timid. She likes dogs because they are always ready to play and have fun, but she's never had one because her apartment doesn't allow pets.
He doesn't particularly care for her, but she's the only contact he has with someone and he's grateful for the company. She doesn't seem the least intimidated by who his is or the rumors she's heard.
Apparently her seven year old brother sees him as a god-like figure and looks up to him, which Shizuo finds cute. Besana says there's no wrong in needing a little help at times. He thinks it's just a feeble attempt to cheer him up. It's not working.
The afternoons are the hard part. It's been arranged so that someone can come check on him during the day, like a babysitter. He wants to be stubborn and whine and get angry, revive the person he used to be, but anger doesn't solve anything. It never has. Anger doesn't give him the use of his legs or a job to pay bills or something to do with himself for the rest of the day.
Sometimes Shinra comes around and sometimes Celty does. He's even been stuck with Tom for an afternoon, and it's awkward to say the least because he doesn't work for Tom anymore.
They had talked about it, and Shizuo couldn't do his job while he was stuck in his chair. He could only go as fast as his arms could propel him. He couldn't go fast enough to chase fleeing "clients" and he couldn't reinforce his threats when he was cut down in size and his reach was limited.
So now he was out of a job. Tom had given him some money although Shizuo tried to decline. Tom had said that he knew money would be tight for him in the future and he wanted to help. Shizuo thinks its pity. And he hates it. The debt collector said that they could still be friends but Shizuo can't seem to find a way to talk to him without remembering what he has lost.
There's been a lot of change. He has to get used to it. He has to get used to looking up to people when they talk to him. He had to get used to not being able to reach anything in his home. He has to get used to a lady he doesn't know helping him dress and wash himself.
It's beyond embarrassing. It's humiliating. It's degrading. It's disgusting. And a little part of his pride dies a little more every time. And he knows it's not fair for him to think this way and he knows he needs to start thinking differently but everything's so damn hard all of a sudden.
Every simple task becomes a mountain of work. He's struggling to hold on to his independence. He is struggling to hold onto himself. He's incompetent; he can't do anything for himself. It's killing him.
His days are spent loitering around the city, although that quickly lost its shine. It is then he realizes just how boring his life is. He has no hobbies. He has no friends. He has no life. He had his job and he had his freedom, and now he has nothing.
He visits Shinra, albeit there's only so much of that man he can take at one time. He finds himself going there far too often because he has absolutely nothing to do. He finds himself leaving far too early because that guy drives him up the wall sometimes and how can he be so damn happy?
How can he be happy when Shizuo is miserable? How can he go on so jocular and upbeat when so much has gone wrong? How does he do it when Shizuo can't find a way to cope?
He also has a hunch. Just a hunch, but somewhere deep down inside he knew he was right. He doesn't want to admit it though. Just admitting it would mean that he really has nothing to do with himself anymore. But if he was honest with himself he would get the hint and leave Shinra alone for a little bit.
He goes over there too much, and although Shinra understands and tells him to come over whenever he needs to, enough is enough. He hears Shinra as he talks to Celty. He can hear through the door, it's not that hard. Shinra has work to do and Shizuo was "distracting" him, in short. They were trying to think up a way of letting him down nicely and tell him to get a hobby or read a book or something.
So like a good boy, Shizuo turned his wheel chair around and pushed himself back to his apartment. Tom didn't need him around. Shinra didn't need him around. No one needed him around. Why was he still here? What was the point?
He's fallen so low. He feels like a ghost in the city as he wheels himself through the crowd. Nobody sees him. He's drowning in a sea of faces and he can't stick out. There's nothing special about him anymore.
The majority of people just stare. Like if they stare at him long enough he'll disappear and they'll say "Oh I knew that couldn't be real. Things like that don't happen to the Shizuo Heiwajima, The fortissimo, the monster of Ikebukuro" Like he's better than that. Like he's not human like the rest of them. Like he's above them somehow and things like this don't touch him.
Most people look down on him with "compassion" and "sympathy", like they know what he's going through though they don't, never have and never will. They smile at him like they think that'll give him a new reason to live or something.
Some people are downright rude, spitting at his feet and giving him obscure gestures. He's sure it's because they recognize him and he's probably ruined their property or thrown them around the city like a human missile.
He's probably destroyed their lives because they couldn't pay their debt, he's probably landed them in the hospital because he walked around the city doing as he pleases like he owns the damn place.
He's no better than Izaya.
Speaking of which, Shizuo hasn't seen Izaya lately. He can't even begin to think of a reason why, he had thought Izaya to be the kind of man to kick him when he's down, shove him deeper into the inevitable depression that hangs over him like a cloud. Like a cloud that belches thunder and lightning, zapping him and killing his legs.
He has thought about what Izaya had said, mulling it over in his head until his head aches from thinking too hard. He's written it down and tried to find any hidden message to explain why he's been avoiding him, but Shizuo can't seem to figure it out.
The words didn't seem like a farewell, but maybe he was missing something. He knows that Celty keeps in touch with the informant and he wants to ask her exactly where he is, because he knows she knows. He doesn't want to bring up the flea if he can help it.
When he thinks of Izaya many unanswered questions spring into his head and an unsettling ache grows in his head from the need to know more. Celty and Shinra and Besana have told him all that they know. But he thinks this is something he needs to find out for himself. This is something that he needs to ask Izaya.
But the flea is nowhere to be found and Shizuo need to know.
Loneliness and uselessness grows inside him, festering like an old wound, filling his heads with thoughts that leave him awake at night and refuse to let him rest. He feels it every time he wakes up in the morning, like a heavy blanket was draped over him and weighed down his movements.
There is a split second after he awakens in the morning and he feels like everything is fine, but he is reminded of just how much went wrong when he tries to move his legs on his own. And then it all comes rushing back, like a nightmare he can't wake up from. He's living it. Aside from the bitter emptiness and sorrow he feels, there is not much.
He doesn't know how long he can keep it up. He doesn't know how long he will wheel himself around the city before he finds something to do with himself. How long will it take him to accept the fact that this will be him for the rest of his life?
He will never run, and it is a fact. It is a fact like the sky is blue and Shizuo is in despair.
The truth hurts; he doesn't want to believe it yet. Maybe if he doesn't believe it, it won't be the truth any more than it is a thought in Shizuo's head. Maybe he'll be a medical miracle and wake up and shrug off this paralysis like it was nothing. It hurts to imagine too. Because his fantasies will never be a reality and he's never going anywhere with his legs again.
He needs a job. He's put out a half-hearted attempt for a job. Not caring and knowing that he won't get one anyway. Knowing that even if he actually managed to get a steady job, it won't be worth it. It won't last. Nothing ever does. He should know that by now. He should know a lot by now; but he still doesn't.
There's still so much he needs to learn.
He doesn't want to live like this. He doesn't want to start over like this. He doesn't want anything anymore.
Bills are piling up. He needs a job. Besana warns him that he could get put in a home. He stays at home too much. All the time now. He's sleeping in his wheelchair. Doesn't mind. There's no difference.
Besana doesn't talk to him anymore. She comes in silently and does her job silently and cleans silently and then leaves silently. He hasn't asked her to clean, but things are getting dusty and he's struggling to stay afloat. She doesn't say a word. He's not a good person to be around. Never was.
She tells him he's a changed man. Maybe it's true.
Still no sign of Izaya. Shinra comes by and tries to coax him out. Shizuo tells him to get out. He listens. And now he's alone. No one comes by. They don't want to see him. He doesn't want to see himself.
He does want company, but he wants company that won't judge him or feel sorry for him every time he sees them. He wants someone that will treat him the same. He wants to look at someone and not be reminded of how much was ruined.
He's sick of this. All of it.
He's bitter and he's mean and he's negative and he doesn't care. He's changed, everything's changed. He snaps at people and says cruel things. He hurting, they know it deep down. So does he.
And he's angry. It's a different kind of rage, not the kind that he's used to. He used to be able to pin his anger on someone or something and get rid of the problem. Not this time. He's angry at himself. He doesn't know what to do.
There's no way out.
Kasuka has tried to contact him once or twice; he's left messages telling him that he's worried about him. Shinra leaves messages telling him to come visit him though Shizuo knows it's all a lie. Tom has even left a message telling him that he misses seeing him around. Like hell he does.
There all getting along fine without him. They can do it for another few weeks.
He's been falling asleep in his wheelchair, but sometimes he wakes up in his bed. Besana comes to wake him up and he tells her to leave him alone. They argue, but they're both sick and tired of his attitude.
Besana tells him to grow up. Tells him to stop feeling sorry for himself. Get up. Do something.
He's slipping. Someday he just stays in bed and think of all the things that have gone wrong. How could this happen? He sleeps most of the day away. Doesn't want to wake up anymore.
Maybe one day he'll never wake up.
December has just begun. It's snowing. Fat white flakes decorate the town; Shizuo witnesses it all from his window. He sees the night cover the city, and street lights ignite and a comma of a moon through a gap in the clouds.
He sees people on the streets; the air is filled with cheer. The air is frosty and the roads are slippery. He scowls wheels himself around so his back faces the window.
Sorrow hits him at full force. He's unprepared and is powerless against it. Tears well up in his eyes and Shizuo cries. He cries heartbroken tears because that used to be him out there.
That used to be him on the streets with Tom back when everything was alright. That used to be him at the park talking to Celty with not a care in the world. Sure his life wasn't perfect, but it was better than what he was stuck with now.
He puts his palm to his forehead, scrunched up his eyes in a feeble attempt to staunch the flow of tears. He runs his fingers through his bleached blonde hair and gazed at his lap through hazy eyes.
Shizuo bows his head and sobs. No one's around to hear him. No one will comfort him. Did he really deserve this? Was this payback for all of the devastation he caused?
He cradles his head in his hands and fists his fingers in his hair as his shoulders shake and shudder with sadness. Why did this have to happen to him? How could life be so cruel as to steal away everything? Empty sobs fill the room as he weeps.
All he needed was one person, someone to help him find a reason to live again. Just one, that's all he asks. He doesn't think it's too much. Life has taken everything he had; he needs something to hold on to.
Someone to give him a reason to wake up in the morning, someone to tell him it's alright even when it's not and pick up the pieces when he falls apart. He needs someone that understands what he's going through and will be able to stand by him when he's at his highest and his lowest.
He doesn't want to be like this anymore. He doesn't want to be known as the man who spends his days wallowing in self-pity and hate. He doesn't want to be known as the man who shut everyone else and then wonders why he is alone. He doesn't want to be alone anymore. Loneliness leaves a sour aftertaste on his tongue that he can't shake off.
The streets are alive with cheer and joy and no one is there for Shizuo as he cries. No one hears how lost he is. No one answers his calls. The world keeps spinning and no one hears from the man who just wants someone to help him out of the rut he was in.
He was human too. He had feelings and he had needs just like the rest of them. He's allowed to break down and sob like the rest of them. Shizuo cries alone, and no one is there to comfort him. No one will see this side of him.
He's not a monster. He's not the man they think he is.