Sorry for the (quite) late update - the end of the semester left me a bit scattered. Despite it's lateness, I hope you still enjoy this chapter!


It was before Light had gone on his escapade, and the stars that weren't hidden by clouds were sparkling in the luminescence of togetherness. "It's kinda weird," whispered Yukiteru to A-ya. "…Having so many people around. I bet most of them are awake." They were sitting on one of the rocks, trying to keep down their tones so as not to disturb anyone. So as not be heard.

"Maybe," A-ya agreed. He felt like he'd lost something important – he didn't know whether it was because of the silent company around them, though. Eight other people… Two of them were on watch, even: Twelve and Minene were sitting on the opposite side of the clearing, on their own rock with neither of them facing Yukki and A-ya.

Noticing them, Twelve gave a hearty wave to them, and Yukki gave a little awkward one in turn while A-ya gazed at the terrorist without expression. "…It's definitely strange," A-ya admitted, closing his eyes. "Less… isolated. I don't know whether I like it or not."

"It should be fine," Yukiteru assured him. "I mean, we still have our time together here… and with all these people around, we're way safer than we'd be alone. Setting up night shifts… none of us ever did that." He tugged at his hat. "I guess we were lucky, huh?" He laughed nervously.

"Yeah," A-ya agreed distantly.

"Right, so what was it you were trying to tell me earlier?" asked Yukki, leaning forward to peer at A-ya's downturned face.

"…Oh…" His eyes flickered. "It was… nothing, really."

"Well, I'd like to know," the other prodded. "It wasn't nothing if you wanted to tell me… right?"

A-ya grunted noncommittally. "It was just… that C-ta and I used to play a game back when we were little, where I would be—the dark-clad hero… And he'd be the villain, see. I wonder if he would have remembered now…? Ah, of course he would. C-ta is C-ta…" He trailed off, and Yukki gazed in sympathy, lost for words. "…But that's why it's like a game, being like this. I'm super free… all-powerful, or something." He laughed ever so slightly, and Yukiteru smiled. "It feels like a dream."

"Does it?" The diary owner's eyes were sparkling. "It makes me wonder… wonder what it'll be like when I use my item." He beamed excitedly, gripping his hands into fists. "Imagine the look on Minene's face! Hah!"

A-ya looked at him with soft expression before looking back up at the sky. "Hey, Yukiteru."

"Eh? Yeah?"

"If something were to go wrong, what would happen?"

Yukiteru blinked at him confusedly. "What… do you mean?"

"Ah…" He began to laugh. "What would you do if I were possessed by a demon?" A-ya asked him.

"Possessed by a—A-ya!" he cried in protest to A-ya's playful chuckling. Yukiteru huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "…Well, if you were possessed by a demon, well, you'd probably keep him as a pet or something, knowing you." A-ya only laughed harder, at which Yukki cried, "Seriously!" in that hushed kind of outcry… like kids at a sleepover trying not to wake their parents. The diary owner found himself laughing with A-ya, though maybe he wasn't sure why. Together they fell into a fit of good-natured amusement.

"Ah, ah, Yukiteru," said A-ya eventually, now lit up with something warm. "So Celty, she's apparently a Dullahan—have you ever heard of it?"

"Huh? No, I haven't," he answered. A-ya's excitement was contagious. "Go on… What's that? Sounds interesting…"

Given the go ahead, A-ya drove right on forward into a full explanation of Celtic folklore and the meaning of the Dullahan and the implications of Celty being one and…

…Not that he wouldn't have told Yukki anyway, regardless of whether he'd urged him to tell. And just like that, their togetherness was revived, as it always was.

Across the clearing, Twelve listened to the muted laughter of Yukiteru and A-ya, giving them a glance out of the corner of his eye. "Hm… Hey, Minene," he said, and she grunted grumpily in answer. They were facing opposite directions on the largest rock in the area. "I think it's pretty funny that they picked two terrorists to take first watch, don't you?" he asked.

"Probably not the first thing on their mind," Minene answered bluntly. "Besides, being on watch is a pain."

Twelve leaned back on the stone, lying on his back with his head at her side so he could look at her. "So, can I ask a question?"

She frowned down at him, annoyed. "Well, you just did, didn't you? More than once."

"You're right," he shrugged. "But will you answer it?"

"Depends on the question," she grumbled.

"Why are you a terrorist?"

Her eye narrowed in intense annoyance. "None of your business," she growled.

"C'mon, as a fellow terrorist, I kinda wanna know!" he pressed, and she shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest and crossing one leg over the other.

"Just because you blow shit up doesn't mean it's any of your business why I do it."

"I'll tell you why I do," he offered, and she rolled her single eye in exasperation.

"You think I care?" she scoffed.

"No," he admitted, sitting back up. "But terrorism is born from a statement, isn't it? What's yours?" His eyes were shrouded, not that she could see it. A smile still touched his lips.

"My statement?" She clicked her tongue. "There is no god and the world sucks. How's that?" His answer was laughter, and she turned sharply to glare at him. "Don't tell me it isn't true!"

He didn't look back. "Well, I can't tell whether there's a god or anything," he conceded, "but I admit there's a lot wrong with the world. I'll give you that. But to be a terrorist… ah, I guess that's as good a reason as any."

She paused, her anger shifting to confusion. "Well then? What's yours, then?" she asked harshly.

"Von," he answered obscurely, and she squinted at him.

"What?"

A dark laugh escaped his mouth. "To unveil truth. To be remembered. To… to play a game, honestly." He raised his hands slightly, palms facing the sky. "Imagine a world that you've been rejected from… a world where you've never been needed by anyone… a world where you have no right to existence. You set up something made to destroy, but only you have the switch that saves that world. Suddenly, everyone is watching. The whole world is in the palm of your hand. Suddenly, everyone needs you. The whole world needs you. Even if it's just to spare their lives."

She stared at him with intensity, a question in her eye. She began to laugh. "That's your idea of a game, huh?" she snickered. "Really dark… I love it."

He leaned back to look at her, lighting up. "But don't get me wrong," he said brightly, "we don't kill anyone."

"Hah?" She quirked an eyebrow. As he burst into a fit of laughter, she frowned. "That kind of game, then… You're fucked up."

"As my partner says," he grinned, "sanity has never made our acquaintance, not from the very beginning."

She blinked, then gave a bark of laughter. "That so? Well, well… Maybe you're not so bad."

"I like to think not," he agreed, and she shook her head, turning back to where she was designated to watch. "Ah, but you're terrible, you know that?"

"Yeah," she smirked. "I know." And Twelve laughed, light-hearted.

On the ground, lying in the grass, there lay the six at 'rest.' Among them was Izaya gazing impassively at the sky and listening to the quiet conversations surrounding him, with Twelve and Minene at his right and Yukiteru and A-ya at his left. His expression did not change at all throughout, absorbing every word and pocketing them for information purposes. Twelve was becoming ever more interesting to him, but everything about him had already been 'interesting.' A-ya, on the other hand, was interesting in his own right. Yes, that was right, Izaya had new toys to play with—the gullible Yukiteru and the irritable Minene… He had Suzuya to taunt, Twelve to pick apart…

…But really, it didn't make him feel any better.

There's a difference, of course, between A-ya and I. We're both quite alike… and he's managed to surprise me with the level of which he takes joy in the same things I do. But…

The night passed, and Izaya watched the stars slowly rotate. Watched the moon take its course in the sky. Yukiteru and A-ya settled for the night, eventually coming to the agreement that they should both lay down and go to bed. It was A-ya who asked for them to retire, strangely enough. He listened to the rustling of them preparing to sleep. He heard the whispered goodnights.

Izaya felt something almost insectile settling itself in his chest, encasing him in something invisible. Something only he could perceive, but boy oh boy did it make all the difference. The feeling birthed only negativity.

Ah, what a foolish emotion, he thought mildly, bringing a hand to his chest quietly. No use in that. Oh well… stop that. In all serenity, he raised his hand into the air… then slammed it into his chest. Only then did he let his arm rest at his side. Go away, he thought bitterly, glaring at the sky.

A feeling of stagnancy returned, his expression one of nothingness. That's right, because A-ya still has people flock to him. Because he has Yukiteru-kun, and he gets along well with Roy, and with Rika, and with Celty, and with…

He felt suddenly as though he was the only one lying on that grass, and everyone else was gone. Total isolation.

I would like some tea.

He closed his eyes. All the people I see, I love them so, so much—enough that one day, surely…!

But his thoughts were half-hearted. He couldn't bring himself to think in fixated glee. He felt that odd heaviness again, and didn't know what to do about it. It's so quiet… Twelve, won't you talk? He brought the heel of his palm to his forehead, closing his eyes. Discomfort swelled in him. I could do without the quiet… What… about Celty…? His chest seized. The more he thought about it, the more he thought that perhaps he wanted to listen to the cheery whispers of Yato, teasing and playful. The hisses of Yukine in turn. He wanted to join in the banter. He wanted to have Shizuo snap at him, telling him to get the fuck to sleep, because he was nothing but a goddamn flea that got under people's skin…

"Ah, Shizu-chan," he uttered under his breath. His expression twisting, he screwed his eyes shut. You, too, were able to find that. 'Connections.' It's hilarious, really, that the information broker is the one trying to figure out something like a 'connection.' Something like… something like…

A dry, dismal laugh escaped him. "You bastard," he remarked breathily, filled with something unpleasant. You really did me in, didn't you? he thought, glaring at the moon with one eye covered by his hand. How dare I say you never caught me, huh? You damned protozoan… you've got me. You've really got me. You, who was close to so many people… people like Celty and Shinra; people like Yukine and Yato. All that time, I wanted to torment you, but why? Izaya couldn't come up with an answer. He lowered his hand to his side again, resting it on the cool grass. It was rather frustrating. With a sigh, he folded his hands together over his stomach.

Well, Shizuo, he thought, staring into the stars with hollowed out eyes. …Having done what you have… having gone and sacrificed yourself for the person you hate most, I have to say you've given me the greatest puzzle yet. Really funny—yeah, really funny…

But seeing as you've done that, Protozoan… you'd better damn well be happy with that choice. Wherever you've ended up… whatever's become of you—I swear, you better damn well be fucking happy…! Something was stirring inside him, struggling to free itself. …Seriously… He brought one of his arms over his eyes and rested it there. You shouldn't have died there. You shouldn't have. It was stupid of you, you know that? Not that we didn't know you were a complete idiot, but…

At least know you won't be forgotten. You, surely, have people who'll miss you. Someone like you shouldn't have had to die in such a stupid way. It should have been someone else. Not you. Not you…

It probably should have been me.

Something squeezed in his chest. He bit his lip. Hard. He tasted iron. What was that he'd said just before he died? 'Even if I hate you, you're still human'? Izaya came to the conclusion that he'd actually rather Shizuo be around hating his guts rather than lying dead in a pool of his own blood. Swiftly, the feeling of stagnancy befell him again, a weight that settled on him and made him want nothing but to lie there until the end, uncaring of whatever may happen to him if he refused to move for the rest of the game. What could possibly be done? Let Yato come and kill him; let the others mock him, it wouldn't make a difference, would it?! Let them! Let them!

That's ridiculous. Izaya Orihara is not someone who gives up. Izaya is the one who is able to find beauty in the most twisted of scenarios… His mouth twitched. That's right. I'll be the one smiling at your funeral, Shizuo… No, no, don't get me wrong, it won't be disrespect…

But look at me. His mouth twisted into a bitter smile. I'm practically falling apart. Hah! Shizuo, don't think you can go and tear me down… especially if you're not around to even see it! There's no point in that, is there?

There was a pause. The weight on him had eased. …Ah, the people who have others flock to them… People like Shizuo. Like A-ya, even though he is like me… Why is that, I wonder? Ah. There's… Yato. The thought struck him as funny. Yato, now… He's nowhere near that point, now… He's just a monster. There's no way for people to flock to him like before…

If someone that people can love… if someone like Yato… can become someone whom people avoid… does that then mean… that the reverse is possible?

He closed his eyelids, sighing slightly in annoyance with himself. What a stupid thought… Why wonder?

Gradually, sleep tugged him into the uneasy dark of rest.


Yato took rest in the crook of a tree, leaning on the trunk and sitting upon a thick limb, one leg dangling off of the branch. His breathing was heavy; he was gasping for air. Nora was sitting on the branch beside him, her red eyes narrowed slightly in distant alarm. "Is that one done?"

"Seidou?" he choked out, and she nodded.

He breathlessly nodded back. He pointed off to the east, closer to the edge of the wooded area. "Back there… Stopped. He needs to rest too." Swallowing, he gritted his teeth and pulled off his jacket. His shirt.

"Your chest," she agreed, going to tear off another piece of her white kimono. "I don't much like the one that cut you."

He didn't respond, just let her tend to his wounds without answer. By the time she was tying off her makeshift bandages, he'd somewhat caught his breath. "Thanks."

She smiled at him. "Of course, Yato…" She watched as he put his long-sleeved white shirt back on, spoiled with splotches of deep red.

"We need to lose that guy," he said seriously. "My jersey." He held up the jacket, ripped, torn, charred, and sodden with his own blood. "This is what'll do it."

"Your jacket," she remarked, tilting her head. "A scent trail, then? Give him two trails to follow?"

He nodded, then looked at her gravely. "Do you know what that means, Nora?"

She gazed at him with jaded warmth. "Don't worry, Yato… I can be your bait if it means that you'll be okay." Her doll-like features upturned in contentedness. "So, what is your plan, then? I take your jacket and go one way, while you go another? Is that it?"

"Mostly," he answered. Yato put one hand on his knee, gazing out to the little walking path set beneath them not too far away. "What I'll have you do… is head over to the groups resting at the fringe of the forest… that way." He pointed south, where Groups 3 and 6 were nestled. "I know there are people over there… If it's Izaya's group… if it's Kuroha's new vessel, even… that would be ideal. Seidou is hungry—if he gets tripped up by a group, it's likely he'll attack, being as visceral as he is right now. From there…" His eyes narrowed. "Either he thins out the group, or the group kills Seidou. Maybe even both. Once things get dangerous… then do a mental shout-out. I'll call out 'Hiki,' and you'll rejoin me. Safe."

She looked at him for some time; at his distant expression. She shifted slightly on her branch so that she could lean into his side. He didn't react. "Yato… I'll do it. Don't worry. I'd do anything to make sure that you were okay…" He grunted in answer, and she took pause. "…Ah, though I wonder…" She closed her eyes. "If I were to die for you… would you be so upset as you are over that blond boy…?" She felt him go rigid, and her small smile played over her lips again. "Don't worry… even if you weren't to care… Even if you sacrifice me without a second thought… I wouldn't mind, no… not at all. Because I get to be together with you as a family again. That's enough for me."

"…Hiiro, I won't let you die," he said, his voice taut.

"Did you let him die?" she answered, and he didn't respond. "I didn't think so."

"I won't let you," he repeated, and she nestled more comfortably into his side.

"Okay, Yato," she said.

"…" He lowered his head. "…We should split up soon."

"I know." She didn't move. He looked at her, and at her peaceful face. Releasing a breath, he leaned back on the trunk again, relaxing ever so slightly.

The night was quiet.


As always, I hope all of you have a lovely day~ uvu