Durarara! © Ryohgo Narita.
Sorry for the wait, I was swamped with math!
I wonder if people would think me crazy if I told them I went back in time. Even saying it in my head makes me cringe. It sounds so fucking stupid, but I bet Shinra and Celty would believe me. They are, after all, used to otherworldly shit. I'm sure Shinra would have questions. Too many questions. He'd probably die to run tests. He already wants to dissect me. I guess I don't need to give him another reason to try and get me on an operating table so he can poke around at my insides… Maybe it's best he doesn't know. Maybe it's best no one ever knows. It will remain a secret.
Izaya left shortly after he gave me the address. I told him I'd walk him to Shinra's house, but he refused and disappeared. That didn't surprise me. He probably feels like I've done too much for him.
I feel oddly calm on my way to the Awakusu-Kai's nearest headquarters. I light a cigarette to keep it that way. It's drizzling outside and my clothes are damp, but I'm trying not to get angry before I walk through the doors. No one understands how easy it is to lose control.
I make my way to an especially dreary part of town and turn down an alleyway before coming face to face with a large, metal door. "This is it," I whisper to myself, tossing the cigarette on the ground and stepping on it. I let out an angry roar as I rip a pole out of the ground before ripping the door right off its hinges.
This is it.
"Holy fuck!" I hear someone shout as I step through the threshold. "What the hell was that?"
"It's the monster kid – Heiwajima!" another shouts.
I don't bother responding. Instead, I start swinging at the men in suits. I begin bashing in faces with my weapon of choice, trying hard to be careful. I want to inflict enough pain to damage them, but not enough to kill them. I don't want to kill anyone, but I will if I have to. I'm going to end it now. I'm going to make sure these people are good and scared so that they leave me alone and stop fucking with Izaya.
Blood splatters on my face with each hard hit. Bodies continue to drop unceremoniously and I'm left standing, pole in hand. I raise it once more, only to be cut off by a desperate plea –
"Wait!" one man suddenly yells.
"Why should I?" I ask, narrowing my eyes and pausing in mid swing. I'm panting by now, mostly out of anger that I'm trying hard to repress. Easier said than done.
It's quiet, eerily so, but I hear shuffling. A moment later, someone enters the room dragging a familiar figure. He throws Izaya's limp form onto the ground, looking especially smug. "That's why," he says.
"Shit!" I hiss. Not again…
"We found him on his way home. The little shit had the audacity to look almost carefree."
"Why isn't he moving?" I ask tersely, squeezing the pole in my hand and moulding it into a new shape. "What did you do?"
"We drugged him so he'd comply," the man explains, stepping on Izaya with a polished black shoe and rolling him on his back. His head lolls pathetically in his incoherent, barely conscious state.
I feel my throat tighten – whether it's out of anger or sadness, I'm not sure. "I see," I say quietly in an attempt to suppress myself even further. Getting angry won't do any good, especially now that they have leverage. I throw the pole against the wall, creating an explosion of debris.
"Now that we have your attention," the man continues. "I'm going to tell you how this is will pan out." He's smiling a disgustingly perverse smile and it makes me want to bash his fucking skull in. "First, you are going to turn around. Then you will leave and return home. Lastly, you will forget all about this and you won't try to pull another one of these stunts again. Remember, Heiwajima… The power of children will never compare to the power of adults. You allow yourself to be ruled by your primal nature and that is why you will never win."
I feel my jaw tighten. I feel like I'm going to explode, but I also know I can't. If I do, who knows what they have planned. It's just as he said… I want to deny it, but I can't. There is too much truth to what he is saying. For years I've let myself go, giving in to my anger and whatever else. I can't keep doing it. "What of Izaya?" I ask.
The man sighs. "He didn't deliver what was promised. He'll pay for that."
"He didn't pay with my life, so what?" I bite. "Now he has to pay with his?"
The man bends down a grabs Izaya's chin. "Perhaps…" he says vaguely.
"He's sixteen!" I shout.
"Do you think that matters?"
"I'm not leaving without him…" I say with finality. I don't think I can leave without him. My body won't let me.
"If you're going to be difficult," he smiles, reaching into the pocket of his suit and pulling out a pistol, "Then you can both die."
But still, that doesn't sway me. "I don't like that plan," I say. I take a step forward and he frowns, as if he's almost afraid to pull the trigger. I'm going to go ahead and assume he's never had to use a gun before. People tend to believe that waving a gun around will protect them. It isn't true.
Once I'm mere feet away from him and Izaya, he shakily aims at me and I feel a bullet tear through my shoulder. Hardly fatal. I wonder if he did it in purpose, or if he just has bad aim like the last guy who shot me. The sound of the gunshot rings throughout the room. Suddenly, it's quiet and it feels as if everything is moving in slow motion. I keep moving, ignoring the pain. I take the gun from the man and smack him across the face with it before throwing him to the side.
"Anyone else wanna try me?" I ask, breathing heavily. I kneel down and check Izaya's pulse. It's irregular, probably because of the drugs, but he's alive. He's fine. He'll be fine.
I aim the gun at the men who remain standing. No one moves and again, it is quiet. I can hear footsteps approaching from the hallway and I can tell it's someone important. I spin around and spot a tall, sharp looking man dressed in a suit standing in the doorway with arms crossed. There are two larger men trailing behind him, dressed in black with earpieces.
"Shizuo Heiwajima," he says, looking thoroughly amused – as if this is all just a game to him.
I want to scream and say life isn't a game and neither is death, but I have a feeling he would only chuckle in response. So instead, with my stolen gun at the ready, I stand and demand, "Who the hell are you?"
"Shiki," he says, only giving his first name. Or maybe it isn't his true name at all. I remember Izaya mentioning him before. He's an important member of the Awakusu-Kai. He's the one Izaya made that agreement with in the first place. Izaya tried backing out of it, but they forced him to follow through. I hate Shiki for it.
He lets out a sigh, scanning the room with arms still crossed. "What is Orihara doing on the floor?" he asks no one in particular.
"Why don't you ask your lackeys?" I snap.
He glances past me and looks at those who remain standing. "Well?"
Again, it's quiet. I follow his gaze as it trails away from their no longer smug faces and towards the ground, where Izaya is still lying. "Orihara?" he murmurs, sounding almost irritated. "What is Orihara doing here?"
"Your lackeys took him," I fill in the blanks for him. "They drugged him… who the hell knows what would've followed."
He suddenly looks exasperated. "Like taking care of children, I swear…" he says. "Someone, pick Orihahra up. Bring him to the conference room." He then glances my way. "Heiwajima, come with me."
I glance at Izaya for a moment, watching as he gets heaved over the shoulder of yet another strange man. When he starts following after Shiki, I do the same. I follow him into a large, open space with leather furniture. He takes a seat, and gestures for me to sit down as well. I flop on the chair across from him and look at him expectantly, waiting for answers.
"A doctor will be in to remove the bullets," Shiki says.
I take my t-shirt off and glance down at the wound in my shoulder. I have bad aim to be thankful for yet again.
When the doctor comes in, he works silently removes the bullet and I try not to groan at the pain.
"You know," Shiki starts. "We could use a man like you –"
"Not a fuckin' chance," I cut him off. The doctor places a large bandage over the wound after cleaning it. It stings, but I don't express that. I just put my bloody shirt back on and the doctor leaves.
"It's difficult," Shiki starts, "to keep a group of solid men. There aren't many people who take this line of work seriously. It's mostly just a bunch of stupid kids who want something fun to do. When it gets hard, they'll run… or they get power hungry."
"Right," I murmur.
"We follow a strict code of honour here," he says. "Blood for blood. Agreements cannot be broken and when something goes undelivered there will be punishment… However, I believe Orihara has been punished enough."
"Those morons shot me," I decide to mention. "They wanted me to pay for saving Izaya. You need to keep a tighter leash on them."
"It looked to me like you had the upper hand," he says.
"That isn't the point..."
He offers me a business-like smile before asking, "Do you require compensation?"
"Really?" I raise a brow. "Just like that?"
He nods. "I told you," he reiterates, "I go by a code of honour."
Raping and murdering and stealing doesn't seem very honorable, even if it is seen as some sort of sick revenge... but I don't say that. Instead, I glance over to where Izaya is lying. I can't help but recall all those stupid rumors –
Izaya Orihara fucks for information.
Izaya Orihara fucks for money.
Izaya Orihara is the slut of the mafia.
Izaya Orihara manipulates people into killing themselves.
Izaya Orihara pretends to be a girl so he can get favours from powerful men.
Izaya Orihara has no soul…
I don't think any of them are true. Especially not the last one. I once thought it might be, but I know now. I think as I got to know Izaya better, I also got to know myself better. It's weird how things work out sometimes… but I'm not complaining. Even if they were all true, I don't think I would care.
"Is this finally going to stop?" I ask Shiki. "Are you going to tell your men to back off? Because just knowing that will be enough compensation. I don't think there is anything else that can be done."
"They'll do as I say," he assures me.
"Good," I murmur.
Izaya regains consciousness soon after. He slowly sits up, squinting and looking pained. He gives me a look and I can tell he feels bad for getting caught again and he feels bad that I got shot again.
"It's fine," I tell him, even though he never said it aloud.
I'd say he should feel bad about getting caught, but then again, he's only sixteen. So am I. We're still children and it never ends well when you get caught up in things you don't truly understand. I think that's a lesson Izaya learned early in life - a lesson he learned the hard way.
He forces a small smile and I do the same. I don't think I want him. I think I need him, and maybe that's what the world was trying to tell me when it took us back.
He stands up, carefully glancing at Shiki, who simply nods. "Let's go," Izaya says to me after being given leave.
I follow him to my feet and spare Shiki one final glance. I don't say thanks, or any of that. I doubt a thank you would mean shit to a guy like him and to be perfectly fucking honest, he doesn't deserve to be thanked. Especially not after what he forced Izaya to go through in our past life.
On our way out of the building, I spot the faces of the men who were fucking with Izaya. "You guys made me violent!" I yell, pointing at them with an accusing finger.
"We didn't make you do anything!" one yells back defensively, sounding scared at the same time.
"Yes, you did!" I step forward and shake him. "I said this to your friend and I'll say it again to you – don't fuck with kids, you damn creeps!" I have to try hard not to punch him in the face, so I drop him on his ass, grab Izaya and the two of us leave.
I mean it when I say it – I really do hate violence.
"You're holding my hand," Izaya points out on the walk back.
"Shut up," I mumble, and he only laughs.