It was crawling inside of him.

He twisted and turned in his bed until he was tangled in his sheets. He gasped for air, his lungs tearing when warm air flooded them. He had been sleeping soundly when he was suddenly jolted awake by a tearing sensation in him, as if scorpions were inside of him and ripping him into pieces with their pincers.

He held his breath, trying to force the pain out of him. He pinched his wrist, convinced that it was a terrible dream and he could free himself of it if only—

He squeezed his eyes shut, silently screaming in his mind. He didn't understand why he felt this way. Was he ill? Out of his mind? He wouldn't question the latter if that was the case.

Tearing, ripping, scarring, teeth gnashing at his insides, destroying him from inside out—

THERE WERE MONSTERS INSIDE OF HIM AND HE COULDN'T GET THEM OUT—

He could feel it enter his body. It fought its way into him, armed with agony and repulsion, leaving muddy trails at its feet that made him feel revolting and sick. It felt like a dagger, but it was alive—alive and determined to kill him—

His eyes shot open and the pain vanished.

He lied still for a moment, letting his heart rate and his breathing slow down to normal. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead, frustrated at his silly human weakness. If he could deal with Shizu-chan's beatings all the time, a little cramp shouldn't have affected him so much.

He knew he was lying to himself.

He pushed himself back up to a sitting position. He had better check on Mairu and Kururi to make sure he hadn't awoken them during his spell. He ran a hand through his hair; his skin felt unnaturally warm as if he had a very high fever. He rubbed his eyes and swung his legs over the side of the bed. When he looked up, he realized he had absolutely no idea where he was.

This was not his bedroom.

He squinted in the darkness, trying to identify where he was. This wasn't his room at all. In fact, this wasn't even a bedroom in the first place. It was dark and empty except for him. The ground was cold and hard and there was a dim greenish light above his head.

It looked oddly familiar.

He stood up on his shaking legs. The blanket slipped off of him and when he bent down to pick it up, his fingers grazed the cold floor. The blanket was gone. Simply stopped existing.

He pinched himself harder on the wrist, but he would not wake up.

A scream pierced the air and he winced. There was no one else in the room, but he was certain that the scream was right next to him.

It sounded familiar.

It sounded like his voice.

He put a hand to his neck, as if to feel if his voice box was still reverberating after such a shout.

And suddenly, that crippling pain returned.

He fell to his knees, clenching his teeth to keep the scream from escaping his mouth. It wracked his entire body but he couldn't understand what it was or where it was coming from.

A heavy weight on top of him—

He was on the ground again, his cheek pressed against the icy cold floor.

A girl's sobbing screams—

He could force himself to not see, not hear, not speak, but he couldn't stop feeling. Something was attacking him but no matter how much he fought, he fought nothing.

And then, in his mind, he could see everything.

He saw himself, but he was clothed in a black jacket instead of his white one. At the sight of it, familiarity returned to him, which struck him odd because he couldn't remember it. The person he saw in his mind was covered in blood and someone else was bent over him—too close, much too close. The lights were so dim he could barely see but he saw the ripped clothing and the discarded belt strewn across the floor.

He tried to open his eyes, to fill his mind with his surroundings instead of the horrible images in his head, but he couldn't stop seeing it. Were his eyes closed or open? Would it matter if he changed it? He tried to put his hands over his eyes but his limbs would not move. He couldn't stop watching himself be violated, attacked, raped.

"STOP!" he screamed.

And it did.

He was back in his bedroom, twisted in his sheets on his bed. His heart beat frantically inside of him. He pressed a shaking hand on the lower half of his torso. It still stung and he held his breath.

Please let it be a dream.

He didn't care if it meant he was so weak as to be scared of his own mind.

Please don't let it be real.

Izaya…

He heard that name in his ears again. Instead of fondly remembering it, he blanched.

If Izaya was the one whom he saw raped in that room he was trapped in only moments ago, then he was not Izaya.

He couldn't be. He refused.

That wasn't me.

It wasn't real.

It wasn't real…

"Namie-san…?"

Shinra usually had unexpected guests show up at his front door, but he would have never suspected Yagiri Namie to ever appear before him, especially considering the series of events. The young woman stood stubbornly at his door, glaring at the doctor.

"Well?" Namie said sharply.

"Well…what?" Shinra said suspiciously.

"You know what I mean," said Namie. "Is that idiot still here or not?"

"Who, Izaya-kun?" Shinra said confusedly.

"I come back to his apartment for work and find it completely empty, and then I get this email from you that he's at your place for God knows why—?"

"Calm down!" Shinra shushed. He opened the door wider to admit Namie in. Namie raised an eyebrow doubtfully but stepped inside. Shinra watched her carefully, wondering how exactly to react to a member of the family his father had ties with.

"It's been practically a week now," Namie said. "What's going on?"

"Are you worried?" Shinra asked to his own amusement.

"No," Namie said very quickly. "But my paycheck is at stake, isn't it? With my employer strangely missing and all."

Shinra hesitated. Part of him wanted to hold back the truth; the truth felt too raw to him. It wasn't his sufferings to tell.

"Well?" Namie demanded. "Might as well tell me so I know whether or not I could take a vacation."

"Izaya's not going to be back for a while," Shinra said swiftly. "So you can go do whatever you like for who knows how long."

Namie raised her eyebrows. "Where is he?"

"What does it matter to you?" Shinra said lightly. "All you need to know is whether or not you can take time off your job."

"Stop fooling with me," Namie said harshly. "What's wrong with him? Where is he, anyway?"

"That's confidential, Yagiri-san," Shinra said. "I don't think that—"

"To hell with what you think," Namie interrupted. "I should know, shouldn't I? I'm his secretary. I can practically be considered his mother, seeing what I have to do for my job."

"I don't know," Shinra said weakly. "It's just…I don't think Izaya would want me to tell you."

"Why doesn't he come out and tell me straight up?" Namie said icily.

"Because he can't!" Shinra exclaimed.

Namie narrowed her eyes at Shinra before shoving him aside. She forced herself into every room of Shinra's apartment in search for Izaya. The slamming doors marked her trail. Shinra winced before hurrying toward her.

"Namie-san, don't!" Shinra cried out. "You're making a racket!"

"Then tell me where he is and what's wrong with him," Namie said immediately.

Shinra put his hand over his eyes, trying to clear his mind. Perhaps he could tell Namie what was wrong with Izaya, but not specifically what happened.

"All right, all right," Shinra said through clenched teeth. He let his hand fall to his side. "Will you stop slamming the doors now? You might wake the girls. They're finally getting some sleep."

"Mairu and Kururi?" asked Namie.

"Who else?" Shinra said tiredly. He halfheartedly led Namie to the room where he kept Izaya. He quietly opened the door; the room was dark and quiet, with only the dim beeping of a machine filling in the silence. Kururi and Mairu were curled up on either side of Izaya, fast asleep. Izaya would have looked like he too was merely taking a shuteye if it were not for the heavy bandages and the absolutely deadened face that showed neither emotion nor life.

Namie's eyes widened at the sight of her hated employer so vulnerable. She gave a sidelong glance at Shinra, who pursed his lips.

"He's in a coma of some sort," Shinra said after a while. "I don't know why though—"

"You don't know why?" she croaked. "Aren't you a doctor? How do you not know?"

"Look, I don't!" Shinra said, trying to keep his voice quiet so he wouldn't wake anyone up. "He lost a lot of blood and was injured pretty badly, but even then it shouldn't have caused a coma. I think—I think it's shock."

"Shock of what?" Namie said piercingly.

"I don't know!" Shinra exclaimed. "She knows—" He indicated Mairu, whose hands were intertwined with Kururi's and Izaya's. Though Kururi gripped back, Izaya's hand laid weakly on her fingers. "But she can't talk. She's in shock too, and I just…don't know how to help them."

"You're the worst doctor in the world," Namie hissed.

Shinra didn't reply. Namie pulled up a chair next to Izaya's bed without saying a single word or letting anything on her face betray her. She sat for a while in silence, her hands gripping her knees and her dark hair shielding her face. Shinra stood wordlessly in the room before turning toward the door to leave.

"How did this happen?" Namie suddenly asked.

Shinra hesitated. "Yadogiri Jinnai."

Namie's knuckles grew white. "The man Izaya had been keeping an eye on for a while."

She reached over and grazed her finger over Izaya's forehead, brushing stray strands of glossy black hair from his eyes. She withdrew her arm quickly as if she touched something hot before standing up abruptly.

"Don't tell him I came," she ordered Shinra. She turned toward him, her face unreadable. "If he…wakes up or something, send me a text, at least. So I can get my paycheck from him."

"Of course," Shinra said, leaving the room. Namie was at the doorway when she turned her head. She gazed mutely at Izaya, thoughts passing through her head that Shinra would never know. Before he could inquire or comfort, she closed the door of the room and walked out of the apartment without giving Shinra another glance.