A/N: Hi guys, thank you as always for your exemplary support and inspirational reviews!

I felt really grateful about all the positive feedback regarding the interaction of the executives of the Uesugi-kai. To be honest, I absolutely despise OCs – OCs that are used as antagonists, especially to say – that have no depth to their character. I struggle with that problem personally as I write and create characters, and I really wanted to avoid doing that with the members of the Uesugi-kai. They aren't mere shallow "bad guys", so I'd greatly appreciate it if you just carefully look over their character progression!

But anyway, that was really long. Please enjoy this chapter as well!

P.S. – THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE 100+ REVIEWS!

The Tenth File:

"Everyone in this fucking world has one fucking job."

The more Shizuo contemplated on the particular issue, the more puzzled he became. He couldn't quite understand the reason of…

Well, before that – he probably had to explain this whole "issue" that kept on lingering on every corner of his mind.

This was around eight years ago – when Heiwajima Shizuo and Orihara Izaya had first encountered. It was through the introduction of Kishitani Shinra, both males' well-acquainted friend. The exact moment Izaya flashed that unbalanced smile that somewhat made his stomach churn, something in Shizuo's head clicked –

"You piss me off."

He didn't know why, to be honest. At that point in time, he hadn't been given any information prior about the raven, and he never recalled meeting him elsewhere that would've caused him to feel such irrational discomfort. But he did. Orihara Izaya did it. Well – Shinra had warned him beforehand that he was a… unique, difficult individual, but not a bad guy (which was proved wrong among several accounts of his life).

Of course, after that, he could list off gazillions of reasons why he hated Orihara Izaya. But during their initial confront – did he ever have a reason to hate him?

Was that even hatred?

What was that gutter feeling in my system? Why did my fists clench when his piercing red eyes met mine? Why did I feel so angry? Was that anger even directed at him?

Who was I exactly so infuriated at?

There were too many unanswered questions – and it had been eight years since. But it wasn't much of a surprise – Shizuo desired to neglect that topic for ages, and for an understandable cause. He couldn't find a logical explanation as to why he had to exert such unnecessary amount of energy just for the sake of analyzing his emotions – emotions towards Izaya, that is.

It seriously wasn't worth his time.

Orihara Izaya wasn't worth his time.

So naturally, when Izaya asked him:

"After this affair is done and over with… we no longer have much value to one another, do we?"

He replied with a terse "of course". An anonymous look flashed past Izaya's eyes, as he clutched the sheets beneath him. And a heavy weight was placed on Shizuo's chest, weighing down in agonizing pain as he witnessed that look – was it- regret? Did he truly mean what he said? Or was that just out of instinct?

He really, really, didn't know.

"Why would you ask such a fucking stupid question?" His voice slightly shaky, the blonde grumbled.

"It was a trivial question. Out of the mood." He's avoiding me. Shizuo noticed, as Izaya evaded his curious gaze. "Anyway, Shizu-chan. Let's get out of here." Throwing the cushion he was clutching on to the side of the room, the informant grabbed his toothbrush and began to cleanse his face.

"Get out of here?" Lying back down on Izaya's bed, Shizuo closed his eyes. The Orihara's distinct scent was floating in the atmosphere, leaving transparent paint on the blankets, the pillows, and every inch where he was present. The blonde had always labeled the smell as an abomination – something tolerate at any cost. But now, he was enwrapped in the aroma itself, trying to make out each hinted element that created the mixture.

Mint… and coffee beans? Like a nice roast… He inhaled the air once more, until he finally rose from the bed.

Izaya spoke in muffled syllables. "Well, you know, Shizu-chan," A gurgling noise erupted from the bathroom, as the raven spat into the sink. "You can't exactly accomplish a tracking mission by lying around in a hotel room."

"You actually can, factually."

"Well, not with our budget. Don't try to outsmart me, you dumbass."

Shizuo shrugged, as he joined Izaya in the bathroom. He cleared his mind, as he looked into the mirror. It was just an idiotic emotion – a needless thought. He had to remind himself over and over again – that this was strictly within the boundaries of a lucrative contract on his part, and a golden opportunity for Izaya to accomplish his mission.

But somehow, that determined conclusion didn't improve his mood in the slightest.

"Shizu-chan, are you going to be brushing your teeth until the next century?" Izaya smirked, snapping his fingers tauntingly at the blonde. "Not that I mind, but it's not really my fault if your payment is cut short."

Shizuo gritted his teeth, the aromatic scent that lingered on his nose just a few seconds ago being rendered into a plain mush of rubbish. Placing his toothbrush back in the cup (more like smashing it into the cup), he changed back into a white T-shirt and jeans. It felt odd without his bartender outfit, but he couldn't risk the possibility of being caught due to such eccentricities.

"So, where are we going?" The blonde asked, locking the door.

"A bar nearby. It's where the Uesugi-kai regularly conducts their daily trade." Izaya sniffed, walking down the corridor. "It'll be difficult to infiltrate the exchange, as it is limited to private managers… and some unnamed others."

Snorting, Shizuo shoved his hands into his pockets. "Why am I even here again?"

"To observe. Not obstruct."

"Fair enough."

As they got back on the car, both males rode for a while in silence. It wasn't like the bar was ridiculously far away or anything – it was just that they were stuck in traffic, and had nothing to talk about.

"… Hey." The fortissimo mumbled, as he leaned back on the car seat. He didn't wait for a response from Izaya, or even any kind of reaction – he just continued talking. "Do you remember high school?"

"Are you trying to imply that my memory is so terrible that you need to question my ability to recall a time period that was merely eight years ago?"

Sweeping his bangs to the other side, Shizuo heaved a throaty breath. "No." He always interprets my questions as some kind of sardonic statement, doesn't he?

Izaya released a small 'hmph' as he averted his gaze to the adjacent window. "I do remember, of course." He paused, and then added – "It was hell."

"Likewise." Mumbled the other, intending for the reply to come out as a growl, but for some reason not finding the capability to do so. "I despised you the moment we made eye contact."

"I despised you the moment Shinra even decided to say your name."

Lightly tapping the steering wheel, Shizuo stared at the vertical line of cars ahead of them. "… I wonder why."

"Stop sounding so emotional. It's gross. Not to mention, out of character." The informant made a face, sticking his tongue out in disgust.

"I'm just curious." Now this time, Shizuo growled. "I couldn't find a legitimate, acceptable reason why I felt that way back then."

Izaya's displeased face was now replaced with an empty, stoic expression. He slowly closed his eyes, and shifted his head to the side, refusing to meet Shizuo's intimidating, yet inquisitive stare. Shizuo didn't utter another word, stepping on the axel as the car moved forward. He couldn't read Izaya's mind.

That's all he wanted to do, right at that moment.

"… too." Finally, the raven spoke up, his voice low and barely audible.

"What?"

"I don't know too."

Shizuo's grip on the wheel tightened. An unknown sensation pooled up at the bottom of his chest, squeezing his insides desperately. Was this anticipation? It can't be. He lowered his foot on the brake to slow the car, exhaling unsteadily as he tried to reject this emotion. "Don't know what?"

"Why I hate you."

Present tense… huh. The invisible hand within his body punched his heart, making his nerves tingle and twitch painfully. That kind of… "… Oh." He couldn't look at Izaya. If he did, he had a strong certainty that he would do something – something utterly stupid – out of pure impulse. So instead, he pressed his forehead against the warm steering wheel, his bush of blonde hair sticking out in the corner of Izaya's eye. He left his sunglasses in the motel room, so there was nothing to conceal any kind of expression he was displaying. That seriously kind of… his nails scratched the leather surface of the object, as the hint of mint and coffee tickled his nose. … Hurts.

Unimpressed at Shizuo's mild reaction, Izaya turned to see what the blonde was doing. He felt his heart drop to his diaphragm when he saw the Heiwajima leaning down, looking pale as a sheet. "Shizu-chan?" Instinctively reaching his hand out to touch the other, Izaya stopped himself midair and retaliated. "What's wrong?"

I'm supposed to hate him. Said beast dug his nails deeper into the cover. He had to subconsciously remind himself that this wasn't his car, but Tom's. I'm supposed to hate him. "Nothing." He scrambled upright, properly sitting on the car seat as he moved the car forward. He glanced at Izaya, who had reverted to his contemplative staring outside the window, slouched against the hard cushion. Shizuo switched his attention back to the front view, and scratched the steering wheel one last time.

I wonder if he realized that I used past tense in all my statements. By the looks of the informant, it seemed obvious that he could care less.

I was supposed to hate him.

"Kon. Where are you going?"

"It's my rotation for today."

"Thought it was Katsu."

"He's busy."

Goshiki folded his arms, as he remained motionless, lying down on their long couch, the lights dim and curtains closed. "Kon, you're hiding something."

The accused executive smirked, as he swung his bag over his shoulders. "Based on what underlying proof?"

"Nothing of that shit. I know you. If I need more than circumstantial evidence to prove myself, you're definitely hiding something." Crossing one leg over the other, Goshiki glared at the ceiling, as he heard the soft rustles of Eisuke's minimal movements. "Kon."

Snapping the lock on his suitcase, Eisuke's auburn orbs flickered. "Don't pry, Masamune." His voice was gentle, but had an abrasive edge to it. "I don't remember possessing much of a personal relationship with you."

"I don't remember you hiding anything personal from me, either." The scarred man retorted, as he gradually rose from the comfy furniture. "You only ever hid matters that I was personally involved with."

"So what if I am?" Eisuke clucked his tongue – time really showed evident results and changes – such as one observant man, and a disclosed characteristic. "Are you scared – scared that it's about your precious little bird?" His collar was snatched violently, his suitcase clattering on the floor as Goshiki glowered at him. Time definitely shows formidable results. "Scared that I'll get him before you do, Masamune?"

Goshiki's fist clenched the cloth that was now stretching a little, as Eisuke twisted the other's wrist with a swift crack. Masamune grunted, his arm limp as he persisted to glare venomously at the latter. "Don't test me, Kon."

"I'll say the exact same thing right back at you, Masamune." His handsome face tainted with poison, Eisuke smiled – it was a cold smile. "You're still a piece of shit to me, whatever justification you might provide to convince me otherwise."

Goshiki hollered in frustration, "Why do you want Izaya?"

"I don't want him. In fact, I want absolutely nothing to do with the likes of that boy." Eisuke turned on his heel, and closed the heavy metal door behind his lean figure. He groaned, straightening his collar as he dusted off the breadcrumbs on his suitcase.

"If it weren't for him…"

"This is the epitome of cacophony."

"It's called a bar."

"More like war."

Orihara Izaya rolled his eyes in exasperation as he chugged his glass of Margarita down his throat. They were waiting for the correct timing to sneak into the private meeting area, which was heavily guarded by a few infamous dealers and sensors. Their plan was to sit around and observe the entrance to first see the people that seemed to have permission to enter, and those that were beheld to stay outside. Then as midnight approached and the crowd significantly increases, they'll camouflage into the swarm of people and defeat the guards and disable the sensors. They were at an advantage in sense – having your base connected to a bar like this might help conceal the true motive of your organization; but as this was also a public building, emergency alarms couldn't go off secretly without someone noticing in the process.

Simply to say, it was easy for a small amount of people to penetrate their line of defense – especially when you have a very inhuman-like being by your side.

Shizuo was sipping a glass of Kahlua milk, savoring the temperate sweetness of the beverage. "How long do we need to wait?"

"Just forty more minutes or so." Ordering another cocktail, Izaya grabbed some peanuts from the side of the table and munched away at the savory snack. "But seriously, Kahlua milk? Are you a girl or what?"

"I can't handle liquor and bitter things, alright? Got a fucking problem with that?" Snarled Shizuo, over some random Korean pop music that was blasting in the background. Izaya snorted, his crimson eyes skeptical as the bartender gave him a Jack Rose.

"Now you're lying. I've physically seen you in person, back at Russian Sushi, chugging that whole bottle of Heineken down your throat."

"And you probably haven't seen the consequences of what happened afterward." The grumpy man barked, despite drinking his seventh glass of Kahlua milk. "I easily lose my cool when I have alcohol in my system. I almost killed Shinra when…" He bit the inside of his cheek, the broken memories of that day slowly coming back to him. When he showed me a picture of you. "Nothing." He finished, the last gulp of his drink slipping down his throat. He ordered the eighth one.

Izaya shook his head contemptuously, as he fiddled with the leg of the glass he was holding in his grasp. "In case your idiotic protozoan brain can't process logical sense, no matter how low the ABV value is in Kahlua milk, that's still your eighth."

Shizuo ignored the latter, used to his witty comments and sarcastic tones. I feel like crap. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair as reached for a cigarette inside his pocket.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom." Izaya stood up, massaging his temples. "I think I drank too much." Covering his mouth, the slender man paled as he let out a muted growl. The blonde mumbled a muffled 'yeah' as the informant dragged himself to the bathroom nearby, leaving Shizuo alone.

Thought he said he was a strong drinker or something. Blowing a puff of smoke out of his mouth, Shizuo put the lighter back on the counter where he got it. "Bull shit…" He seemed pretty out of it. He noted, throwing his arm over his face, covering his abused eyes. He isn't the type to drink out of control. Izaya was a shrewd individual, more so than Shizuo – he wasn't an idiot to knock himself out during a mission with some booze. But he definitely wasn't faking that just now – he knew Izaya long enough to realize that much.

Something was wrong.

He pursed his lips against the cigarette in his mouth, the bitter tang of nicotine on his tongue. A surge of panic wavered beneath his feet, as his mind automatically cancelled out all the noise around him, swallowing the Heiwajima into an abyss of nothingness.

Something is not right.

He finished his final glass of Kahlua milk and stormed towards the bathroom. He desperately hoped it was just him and his stupid instinct. Izaya was capable of comporting himself all the time, during those tantalizing eight years of his adolescent young adult career.

His hand on the brazen doorknob, Shizuo twisted it – it was locked.

Shitshitshit-

A warning buzz jolted through his body, as he kicked the door down with a considerable amount of force. The customers around him passed on fearful looks, but Shizuo could care less.

"Flea-"

His stomach quenched as he gripped the hem of his shirt.

There was a pool of crimson splattered on the floor.

But there was no trace of Izaya.

I've never felt so fucking injudicious in my whole life. Leaning forward on the aligned sinks, Izaya washed his face and moaned, something unpleasant creeping up his throat. "This is all that goddamned Shizu-chan's fault…" Why the hell is he even acting so considerate today, out of all days… and why do I even care?

"Who's this 'Shizu-chan'?"

A voice slithered behind him – a very familiar voice-

"… Eisuke Kon." Izaya spat, his head ringing dangerously as his pulse rapidly increased. "What're you doing here… I guess that'd be a redundant question." His lips curled up a little, as his hand slipped down to his pockets, where his switchblade was.

"Oh, no you don't."

The informant's eyes widened as Eisuke took a large step forward, slamming his figure towards the wall as Izaya's back came in contact with one of soap dispensers attached to it. Normally, he would've avoided that – but his body seemed to be disobeying his brain's orders-

"I know you too well," His gloved fingers shoving down the place where his switchblade was, Eisuke easily seized the weapon and pressed the blade against Izaya's throat. "I've watched how Masamune trained you, after all." The shorter male scowled at the mention of his formed superior. Eisuke released a hearty laugh, as he placed his knee on top of Izaya's ribs. "So, who's this Shizu-chan? Your boyfriend?"

"As if." He coughed out – he felt like vomiting. He needed to find a quick, smart way to escape this situation-

Eisuke Kon, not satisfied with the answer, swiftly pushed the switchblade down Izaya's thigh, as blood spurted all over the place, Izaya's face twisting in pain. "I'm not going to kill you." The executive mumbled, "but that doesn't mean you're going unharmed, Izaya-kun." Landing a punch in the middle of the wounded male's stomach, Eisuke made sure the informant was somewhat conscious, and hurled him over his shoulder.

Fuck myself… Izaya gritted his teeth, as his body went limp – before his vision eventually was just black.

"Is that piece of shit an idiot or a fucking –" Shizuo howled as he staggered down the stairs. He couldn't even bother to go unnoticed and crap – he just ripped through the guards in front of the door, and smashed the entrance into three pieces as its pitiful form fell on the wet ground.

He was seeing red. He was absolutely certain that this wasn't healthy. He should've stopped Izaya when he was drinking his second- no, he should've just stopped him from drinking in the first place at all. I should've never assumed that… He was certain that the Uesugi-kai would never make the move before they did. Fuck. Rage. Unconfined rage simmered from the surface of his skin, driving him insane. He couldn't think. He refused to be a tranquil piece of trash.

I'm going to kill them. He seethed, grinding his teeth against the musty air, as his scream tore through the atmosphere. I don't fucking care who they are – I'm going to kill them.

Tap…

He abruptly stopped himself amidst his path, snapping his head in the direction of the sound that echoed through the eerie tunnel. He never scrutinized his surroundings before – but this place was almost like a maze – dark, moist, and paralyzing. He clenched his fists, as his saturated clothing stuck close to his skin.

Sniffing the air, Shizuo closed his eyes.

Blood.

Alcohol.

Mint.

Coffee.

Orihara Izaya.

At first, his footsteps were slow. Then he walked faster, and faster, and faster, and faster, and faster-

Izaya. Izaya. Izaya. Flea. Louse. Idiot. Izaya. Izaya. Izaya. Izaya.

Orihara Izaya.

Give him back.

He's –

"Are you the 'Shizu-chan'?" A leering echo interrupted his train of thoughts. Shizuo didn't care who this person was. But instead, his eyes were immediately fixated on a weak, hanging figure that was unconscious on the man's shoulders –

Izaya.

"Just a quick question." He had to scrape all the remaining pieces of his sanity to even form one simple sentence. Izaya was covered in blood. Izaya was not okay. And Heiwajima Shizuo was not okay with that. "Are you the one who made him like that?"

The man took a while to answer. He seemed to be enjoying the fucking situation, and how tense Shizuo was. Depending on his response, he was going to regret that momentary silence – and everything that he did.

"Yes."

Izaya.

Hurt.

Orihara Izaya.

Hurt.

Covered in blood.

This fucker.

Hurt.

Izaya.

"Everyone in this fucking world has one fucking job." Shizuo's face darkened, his aura murderous as he moved towards Eisuke, who was quite confused about what was going on. "You, failed to accomplish that."

"And that job is…?"

"To never, ever," The blonde's volume increased –

"Touch Orihara Izaya."

The world went red.

A/N: … Well, that escalated quickly.

I'd be happy to read reviews, guys! (Lol)

Todoka Ayane